Marooned with the Savage
by Lauren Kassidy
Summary: Following an attack on their plane, 33 schoolchildren are stranded on an Island. A girl among the schoolchildren, Helena, is an influence on the bad events that occur. She finds Jack Merridew, forbidden lust and the thrill of a rebellion hard to resist. However, they are not alone - natives inhabit the wild land. Complete. Jack/OC.
1. Escape From War

**Marooned with the Savage, by Lauren Kassidy.**

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**Summary:** _Following an attack on their plane by Germans, 33 schoolchildren are stranded on an Island. The only girl among the schoolchildren, Helena, may be an influence on the bad events that occur. Slowly, she becomes overtaken by the lust and thrill of everything that Jack Merridew does. However, they are not alone – natives inhabit the wild land. What the schoolchildren don't know is that the natives of the Island are plotting against them._

**Setting: **_My story is set during the outbreak of WW2. It has the same characters, and a new edition – my OC._

**My OC: **_Helena Adams. Not your average girl – she will be different from most other girls you will have read. She is __not__ the type to become a "mother figure" to the boys, nor does she befriend Simon or Piggy. Helena also enjoys a little violence every now and then. You have been warned! Also, there is limited romance in my story._

**Pairings: **_Jack/OC, __very__, __very__ slight one-sided Ralph/OC and Roger/OC. No slash._

**Genre's: **_Adventure/horror/drama/tragedy/romance/friendship._

**Warning: **_There will be violence in later chapters. Includes gore and deaths._

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Lord of the Flies – it's all William Golding's._

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**Chapter One – Escape From War**

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Helena stood with her father by the airport, the sun slowly setting. He was the headmaster of a private school – meaning all privately educated boys could be sent to foreign countries, as their parents could afford it. While waiting for the boys to arrive, Neville Chamberlain's words echoed in her mind:

"... consequently this country is at war with Germany."

The neighbourhood had gathered in the local town hall, listening to the broadcast from 10 Downing Street. As those words were spoken, an uproar followed. Women cried and held their children tight; men gulped in fear as horror stories from the Great War flooded their minds. Helena looked up to her father solemnly – he had stepped down as headmaster and had joined the army.

Helena's mother, her little sister Carly and older brother Danny had already been evacuated to Texas – they were staying with friends. Helena had to stay to finish her job at the corner shop and help out her father until the school had left. The schoolboys were also going to South America – staying with volunteers.

Helena straightened her tie nervously. She was annoyed by the fact that she had to wear her school uniform. But, of course, she had to be registered with her school. Her fellow classmates would be joining her in a few weeks.

"Why do you look so glum?" asked her father, smiling encouragingly.

"You're joining the _army!_ Grandfather has told me tales from the Great War ..." Helena shuddered at the thought. The images of gruesome battlefields and dying men filled her mind mockingly.

"Yes, but your grandfather got through the whole war, didn't he? Don't worry Helena, I'll do the same," he added, somewhat sternly.

Helena scowled in defeat. They have already had this argument a hundred times over. She knew her father would be a hero, fighting for Britain against the Jerries, but anything could happen to him! The Great War death toll was enough to prove this.

As she mulled over in her head what might become of her father, a school bus pulled up, with about ten littluns and thirteen biguns inside.

"Here are my boys," said Helena's father, strolling over to where the school bus had parked. A teacher jumped down out of the school bus to talk to the headmaster.

"Hullo, Sir. We have only twenty-three boys from your school of fifty. Many parents have saved the money and sent them to the countryside, or they're simply at home still."

The head shook his head and sighed. "Honestly, they are much safer abroad. No-one knows what Hitler is planning. Well, we must get on Sir. Unload them and we'll get them on the plane."

The teacher nodded and got back on the school bus. Helena's father quickly walked back to her.

"Now Helena. Say hello to your mother and brother and sister for me."

"I will," she said tearfully, hugging her father tightly.

"You'll see me again," he said, wiping her eyes. "I love you, Helena. I love all of you. I'll miss you all very much."

"We love you too father," said Helena, picking up her suitcase from beside of her. "For God's sakes, be _careful_."

"I always am," he chuckled, dipping his round hat towards her. "Bye. Safe journey."

He waved, shouted good luck to the school boys, now in a line facing the airport, and jumped into his car. Helena waved after him as the car drove out of view.

The schoolboys, dressed in their smart uniform, walked nervously forwards, all carrying suitcases, following the teacher assigned to go with them to South America.

"Hullo Helena," he said, somewhat cheerfully.

"Hi Sir," she replied, still saddened by her father's departure. The sound of another school bus approaching turned their heads. They all watched the bus intently as it got nearer and nearer.

"Ah, this must be the other school. A bunch of choir children are joining us from St. Bartholomew's," the teacher informed the schoolchildren.

They stepped out of their school bus, seemingly without an adult with them apart from the driver, wearing a ridiculous uniform. Helena's mouth fell open as she studied the hambone frill, long black cloaks and black caps with silver badges pinned to them. The teacher, who Helena suddenly remembered as Mr. Sandford, hurried over to the choir, the clipboard paper flying madly in the air.

Helena stepped forwards, her eyebrows raised at their uniform.

"What are they _wearing__?_" she said in exasperation to herself, forgetting the boys were in a line next to her. They stifled a giggle in agreement and started to mutter in their respective groups. A fair-haired boy was standing next to her – looking at a photo. Helena peered over to see. A fair-haired man stood directly in the centre, grinning happily. He wore a dark blue suit, the jacket held in place by gold buttons and he carried the Royal Navy's insignia on his right sleeve. The fair-haired boy sighed sadly and put the photo back into his pocket.

Mr. Sandford hurried back over, fresh ticks inked on the clipboard paper, followed by the choir, who were walking in twos. The boy leading them had fiery red hair, brilliant blue eyes, a fierce face, a gold badge pinned to his black cap instead of a silver one and was rather attractive, Helena couldn't help but notice.

Quickly looking away before he noticed, she entered the small, shabby airport, the boys following her. After a lot of hustle checking in their small suitcases, they were hauled onto a plane at the back of the airport. Helena went to the front, Mr. Sandford sitting by her.

After the pilot said some words, and after Mr. Sandford spoke to them about discipline, the plane took off. Helena leaned against the window, tears silently falling down her cheek unwillingly. She _never _cries. She didn't want her father going to war, even though he would probably be classed as a coward if he didn't. Her mind flashed back to the argument her mother and father had when he told her he was fighting for King and country. Helena flinched at the memory as the plane rattled.

"Your father will be okay, Helena," Mr. Sandford whispered, obviously guessing why tears were slowly falling down her cheeks.

She nodded dumbly. Wanting to forget for the time being, she closed her eyes. At least the plane wasn't heading for war.

Hours later, Helena awoke. She couldn't even remember falling asleep, but she guessed that she had been for a while as it was now dark outside. Looking beside her, Mr. Sandford was asleep, snoring loudly. Helena scowled at him. There was no way she could get back to sleep through that racket. She decided to stretch her stiff legs – she had been sleeping in the same position for a few hours.

Getting up, Helena's brunette curls bounced slightly and fell back down. Pushing her long hair behind her ears, Helena started to tip-toe down the aisle through the sleeping schoolboys. Looking to the back of the plane, the choir boys had filled up the back rows. There were nine of them altogether and the boy with fiery red hair stood out amongst the black cloaks and ridiculous hambone frills.

Suddenly, Helena was thrown forward in a jolt, as were the boys in their seats. Trembling, Helena picked herself up as screams of terror and panic pierced the plane. She ran to the front of the plane, getting thrown right and left in the confusion.

"Mr. Sandford!" she yelled over the screeching of the plane and the boys yells. "What's going on?"

He shouted back and Helena felt the fear wash over her. She didn't catch much, as she couldn't hear what he was saying, but she caught two words: _German planes._

Cursing under her breath, she ran to the opposite window while Mr. Sandford ran into the cockpit. He was right. Flashing lights were circling the plane and the schoolboys had gathered in the middle aisle, huddled together in unbearable silence, watching Helena at the window. She scrunched her eyes up and saw the flashing lights flying closer.

"Oh no, don't do it!" Helena cried out in desperation.

Bang. Boom.

The cockpit had been hit. She knew where the enemy plane would hit next. With a violent lurch, the plane started to shake and had decided to nose-dive towards the ground. Helena threw herself to the middle of the plane, and held on for her life onto the back of a seat.

Bang. Boom. Fire.

They all yelled out, and covered their faces as the right wing was hit, exploding into flames. The windows smashed and fragments of glass threw itself all over the plane.

Helena felt as if she was having a near-death experience. Images flashed through her mind. She thought of her family and never seeing them again. She thought of her family wondering why and how Helena had disappeared for the rest of their lives.

As smoke wafted in, the plane unexpectedly crashed onto land, skidding through the battling wind, clearing any trees in its path. The force of the turbulent wind and the weakness of the now delicate plane took the roof right off. The side which was on fire blew clear off: the fire was now being tamed by the angry sea.

When the plane got slower, Helena pushed her way through the boys, not wanting the storm to drag her out to sea, too. They could be dragged out, she didn't care - she just wanted to _live._ The rest was a blur – being terrified of death urged her forward, this land inviting her in. The rain swept down hard, and Helena was soaked in a matter of seconds. Untangling herself from the wreckage, Helena ran until she was away from the danger. She collapsed by a standing tree, enclosed in dense jungle, soaked and cold and exhausted. A tall figure lifted her into its arms as dark spots claimed her eyes in victory.

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_A/N: So, what did you think?_


	2. The Scar

**Chapter Two - The Scar**

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Stirring restlessly, Helena's eyelids fluttered open. The sun was creeping over the horizon, its rays beaming down through the gaps in the tall trees. Slowly, she turned her head to her left, not yet gained enough energy to sit up. Surrounding her, fallen trees and decaying fruit lay victim to the previous nights massacre, in the newly created scar.

_The previous night._ Helena froze in fear for a second and groaned quietly.

"Oh God," she murmured, jumping slightly at the sound of a bird's harsh cry. As Helena began to adjust more, she realised how hot it was. How hot _she_ was. Her brunette hair was plastered to her face. She scowled in distaste. Her blouse and school skirt was stuck to her skin, making Helena uncomfortable. Moving her head, she saw she was no longer cold or soaked through, thanks to this black blanket thing that had been wrapped around her. Helena threw it off her and continued to lie, gazing at the damage the plane had left. The forest didn't look so bad in the light.

Finally, she remembered something that had happened the previous night. A tall, dark figure had helped her. And wrapped that black blanket around her, keeping her warm and dry. She remembered it all now – fighting with her eyes, not wanting to succumb to their power. She remembered pushing through the school boys on the plane, the rain beating down hard. She remembered Mr. Sandford entering the doomed cockpit. So, she decided, there were no grownups.

As the light from the sun continued to fill the forest Helena lay in, she turned her whole body round to her right. Her heartbeat quickened and she gasped in surprise.

Lying right next to her was the fiery red head. He still wore his hambone frill; his school uniform was still immaculate and in place. However, Helena noticed he was not wearing his black cloak. Glancing down at the black blanket that was wrapped around her, Helena smiled to herself.

She then swerved her head back to the attractive boy again. He looked so peaceful – his rosy cheeks had dulled slightly than when she last saw him. He breathed in and out slowly and his red hair was plastered to his forehead too. A few freckles dotted his face. He was tall, as tall as Helena, and Helena then let her eyes roam his slender frame. He was well built for his tall structure.

Snapping herself back to reality, Helena slowly got up. It seemed to be too quick for her body to cope with and the black spots returned. Not going to be defeated again, Helena stood shakily and leaned against a tree for support. After rubbing her eyes, Helena saw that, on the other side of the red head, the choir boys lay sleeping too.

Her stomach rumbled and Helena was thankful it didn't wake any of them. The tree she was leaning against was a fruit tree. She scrambled onto a branch and sat, stripping a fruit down and devouring it. Chucking the skin to one side, Helena raised an arm to grab another until a groan automatically swerved her head. One of the choir boys had sat up.

He had jet black hair and, when he turned to look at the noise behind him, Helena noticed his hair was not yet long enough to cover his dark eyes. He had haunting dark eyes and deep shadows settled under them. Helena couldn't figure this one out – he was mysterious, emotionless, studying Helena himself. His face looked to be transfixed in that same position and the sun bounced off his hair, making it gleam in the light. His face held determination which any man would fear. Helena decided to speak first.

"Hi," she said quietly, quieter than she had intended. Helena found herself entranced by his looks.

He nodded curtly back.

Gazing back up the fruit tree, she spoke again. "Do you...do you want some fruit?"

"Yes, thanks," he muttered. His voice was low, and he spoke with a tone that could command.

Helena picked a fruit and threw it to the boy. He caught it, nodded curtly again, and began to strip it down.

As the sun finished its descent over the horizon, the other choir boys groggily began to stretch and yawn. Helena continued to sit on the thick, strong branch and kept her gaze downwards – downwards at her new piece of fruit. She could feel their eyes burning into her. She decided to look up; hopefully they would stop staring. Some of their mouths dropped open and some looked away. The boy with jet black hair was staring at the others, looking faintly amused. Helena frowned until a figure stepped in front of her, barring her view.

It was the red head. His bright, dazzling, electric blue eyes had not dulled at all and they pierced Helena's inquisitive green eyes. He smiled kindly and intently at Helena. Moved by her stark beauty, he leaned against the tree, in which she sat, casually.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked in a concerning voice.

She nodded. "Yeah, thanks." Picking another fruit, she held it out to him and he took it.

He started on his fruit. Helena spoke. "Thanks...for last night."

"Anytime," he replied, between taking bites of juicy fruit.

Helena liked the sound of his voice. She jumped down off the branch, bent down and picked up his cloak. She held it out to him.

"Thanks for this too," she said as he took it back, putting it on, much to Helena's confusion.

He smiled. "I needed to keep you warm."

Chucking the remains of his eaten fruit to one side, he held out his hand. "I'm Jack."

Helena took his hand. Her heartbeat quickened at the touch.

They let go, somewhat reluctantly. "I'm Helena."

Slowly, Jack turned around to face his choir. They were munching on the delightful, sweet tasting fruit.

"Choir!" he ordered, his tone no longer soft, but the one of someone who knows his own mind and is used to being obeyed. "We need to see if there's water all around us. We'll have to get up that mountain to see."

Wearily, the choir agreed and gathered fruit.

"And this is Helena, who'll be joining us."

The choir boys bumbled up to Helena, their eager hands thrust under her nose. She took them all and took in names.

There was Maurice, who was the next in size after Jack, broad and grinning friendly. The mysterious boy was Roger, who quickly took her hand and snatched it away again. The others were at least one year younger than Helena, Jack, Maurice and Roger – Simon, Bill, Harold, Maurice, Robert and Henry.

Simon, Helena couldn't help but notice, was the quietest. He didn't say anything, but he smiled shyly. He had a mop of straight black hair and a face that looked timid and sensitive. Judging by his dim blue eyes, they had the advantage of deceiving anyone.

"All right choir, that's enough. Form a line!"

The choir boys formed into twos again, ready to march, as if ready to march into battle. It saddened Helena a little. Her father would be doing that soon.

"Helena?"

Her head shot up. It was Jack.

"You can walk up front with me...if you want."

She nodded eagerly and stepped beside him. Jack took confident steps in leading the choir and Helena kept in rhythm with him.

"Do you think anyone else survived?" Helena asked Jack.

He shrugged and smiled at the new friendship. "I don't know. We'll find out when we get to the top."

Helena wiped her forehead of the sweat and grimaced. "I'm seriously burning," she panted.

Before Jack could reply, the formation behind them broke. Simon had fainted; the other choir boys groaned in annoyance.

"He's always doing that," Jack said coldly. Helena raised her eyebrows as they bought Simon to his feet, though liking Jack's harsh attitude.

After steadying a swaying Simon for a few minutes, they were able to continue.

"Let's sing for Helena," Jack announced.

Helena's mind was entranced by their angelic voices as they sang _Kyrie. _It lifted her to another place. It might of unnerved Helena slightly, she couldn't deny that. Jack's voice was dominant above the others. The notes of the boys voices swept through the trees, making them sway to the tune. The forest had become deadly quiet. No birds flashed upwards in cries. The insects stopped humming. Helena relaxed and inhaled the fresh scent of mossy ferns.

Their beautiful singing was cut short by the sound of a deep, harsh note which spread around them. It echoed at the peak of the mountain. Out of nowhere, the once silent birds flocked upwards and something squealing scurried around them.

"It's a man with a megaphone or a trumpet, come to save us!" yelled out someone from the choir, while others sighed in relief at the thought of being rescued.

"Choir! We'll go towards the megaphone, or trumpet. Forward!"

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_A/N: Thank you to my wonderful readers and reviewers so far!_


	3. Not Alone

**Chapter Three – Not Alone**

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The fair-haired boy jumped down off the palm terrace and inspected the surroundings in front of him.

Tall palm trees towered right round the edge, circling the terrace, enclosing the lagoon. The sand on which he stood gleamed in the strong sunlight. Behind the sand, and behind the lagoon, the peaceful sea seemed never ending. An island, the fair-haired boy thought, it must be!

The fair-haired boy could hear the harsh cries of seagulls above, circling the lagoon. The gentle whooshes of the waves were calming and invited him to swim in the beautiful lagoon.

He kicked off his shoes and socks. The sand seeped through his toes and felt smooth on his skin. Moving quickly, as the sand was hot under his feet, he approached the lagoon. The water was warm – as if he was about to take a bath. The air smelt salty and this wretched smell wafted under the fair-haired boy's nostrils. The surface of the water rippled slightly and the clear blue colour of the water shimmered in the sunlight.

The fair-haired boy was tall, and a build came with his height. He could make a boxer yet he had an attractive appearance. His fair hair swept around his face, his chocolate brown eyes looked wise and would invite any man into a friendly recognition. He was a calm boy, a stillness followed him, creating him to be a natural and wise leader.

Gazing fondly at the lagoon, he rolled up his school trousers and waded in, up to his knees.

Inhaling the smell of seaweed and algae, resting on various rocks around the lagoon, the chubby boy jumped down off the terrace and reached the edge of the lagoon. The fair-haired boy turned to look at him and couldn't help but smile slightly at the sight of the boy, even though he had hoped to have lost him in the forest. He had fruit stains smeared on his face and school shirt.

The chubby boy smiled back at Ralph at the recognition (which he wasn't getting when the boys were in the forest together). "What's yer name?"

The fair-haired boy made his way back over and picked up his shoes and socks.

"Ralph," he answered reluctantly. He didn't really care that much about the other boy's name.

The chubby boy waited to be asked; that didn't happen. He decided to speak again.

"I don't care what they call me, as long as they don't call me what they did at school."

Ralph squinted at the chubby boy, faintly interested. "What was that?"

The chubby boy bowed his head in shamed and muttered, "Piggy."

Ralph burst into a fit of giggles. "Oh, you're the famous Piggy! Piggy!"

"You musn't tell anyone! You musn't! No one from my class is here, please Ralph!"

"All right, all right. I won't...Piggy," Ralph smirked, and he continued down the beach.

Piggy sighed and followed Ralph. No more was said, much to Ralph's relief. He let his mind wander about that attractive girl at the airport, the head's daughter. Did she survive? If she had survived, was she okay? Ralph's stomach dropped unpleasantly at the thought of her trapped in the plane, heading out to sea.

"Ralph? What's that?"

Ralph looked up. A giant rock of pink granite stuck out of the palm terrace, with many logs formed in a criss-cross pattern, perfect for sitting on and having meetings.

"No, not that platform thing, _that_ in the water..."

Ralph followed Piggy's gaze into the lagoon. A pearly white shell had been washed up, near to the boy's feet. Ralph bent down and picked it up, shaking it of any sea water or sand it had in it. The inside of the tube was pink and a faded green.

"I know what that is!" Piggy said suddenly, delirious with excitement. "It's a shell! A conch! Someone had it on his back wall an' he blew it on that tube thing an' his mum would come, but my auntie wouldn't let me blow it on account of my ass-mar..."

Ralph stopped caressing the conch for a moment. "Ass-mar?"

"That's right. I am the only boy in our school what has ass-mar."

"Sucks to your ass-mar," Ralph muttered.

Piggy, who seemed to ignore the comment, said, "Ralph! Blow it! We can get all the survivors together, an'..."

Ralph looked at the tube uncertainly. "How did your friend blow it?"

"He blew from his diaphragm and kind of spat in it."

Ralph pursed his lips tightly and emitted air into the tube. Piggy was right about the conch. A deep, harsh noise rushed past Ralph and Piggy, entering the forest.

Piggy cheered and clapped, making his way to the platform. Ralph followed, still blowing. The deep noise from the conch echoed at the mountain; birds squealed upwards and something squealed in the undergrowth behind the palm terrace.

Ralph sat at the head log while Piggy looked around for signs of life.

However, another sound made the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end. Ralph ceased to blow and Piggy's eyes widened in fear.

There it was again.

Ululating. From, what it seemed, deep voices of men. And the screaming of women.

It stopped.

"What was that?" Piggy said quietly.

Ralph shook his head of the noise, which had penetrated him so.

A few timid little boys emerged from the undergrowth and Piggy invited them up. The arrival of boys in uniform made them forget. For now.

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The choir and Helena stopped dead in their tracks. That ululating and screaming made their ears ring – it was close.

It was coming closer. Rustling of leaves and the sound of feet surrounded the choir and Helena – and the children themselves kept swerving their heads and bodies as the sounds came from every direction.

With the choir huddled together, Jack stood defensively in front of them and Helena, yet he was shaking.

And then the noises stopped.

Everything was still.

Helena let out a sigh of relief and her heart beat started to slow down. She cursed herself for acting so scared.

"What...what was that?" asked a trembling Simon.

"You mean _who _was that," Helena corrected. "Something tells me that we might not be alone on this Island."

As the choir began to chatter quickly amongst themselves, Jack spoke up.

"Choir! We must get to the man who is here to save us! I can hear the sea, we're almost there!"

Back into formation, they continued to march towards the sea.

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Ralph counted the boys who sat in front of him. There were twenty-three, including himself and Piggy, so everyone had survived.

Except there was no head's daughter. No choir. Where were they?

Ralph spotted them first. The choir had made it.

They marched nobly forward, and wearily, as the sun was beating down hard. Ralph smiled when he saw the head's daughter at the front, by the leading red-head. The boy's cloaks flowed behind them and they, weirdly, still wore their hambone frills and full uniform whereas the boys in front of Ralph had stripped some clothing.

Parading onto the platform, Jack turned to his choir.

"Choir! Halt!"

Jack turned and stepped forwards, peering at the sight before him. Helena joined him – she wasn't taking orders from Jack, or anyone.

"Isn't there a man with a megaphone?" Jack asked, slightly irritated.

"No, only me," said Ralph, holding up the conch.

Helena smiled admirably at Ralph's idea at getting everyone together. She decided to speak, needing everybody's trust.

"Hi," she said to the chattering assembly, "I'm Helena. Is anyone hurt?"

She sat by Ralph. "I'm glad you're okay," he said quietly. Jack smirked at him.

She simply shrugged. A little boy approached her and the assembly broke out into chatter again.

The little boy held out his arm, where a deep gash had cut across like a lightning bolt. It wasn't deep. It was just a long scratch with a little blood that stained the edges.

As she ripped the bottom of her skirt to make a bandage, Simon fainted again. Helena rolled her eyes in annoyance.

The choir and the boys sitting down helped to move Simon, so he was lying against a trunk in the shade.

"Is he all right?" asked Ralph uncertainly, peering at the skinny boy before him.

"He's always doing that," Helena and Jack said at the same time. Jack grinned at her.

"He fainted once when we were singing on a high stage. He fell on the choir director," Jack added, snickering.

Sniggers broke out amongst the choir and Helena snorted at the thought.

"All right. Choir, take off your togs and sit."

As if released from class, the choir literally threw off their cloaks and hambone frills and happily perched in front of Ralph and Helena. She liked Jack's authority - it was very appealing.

"Stop crying!" Helena said in frustration, wrapping the cloth around the little boy's arm. Ralph raised his eyebrows at her impatience. Jack understood, he didn't really like littluns either. "There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No, miss," he sniffed.

"Well then. You're all done."

He nodded and joined his friends. Jack broke the silence.

"Well, we better all have names," he said, looking round the meeting. "I'm Jack. Jack Merridew."

"And I'm Ralph."

And the assembly went round the boys, all speaking their name in turn. It then came to Piggy.

"Well?" Jack demanded. "What's your name, Fatty?"

Ralph smiled delightedly at the assembly and spoke for him: "Piggy."

"Piggy!"

"Piggy!"

"Ha! Piggy!"

Jeers broke out and Helena found herself sniggering uncontrollably at the name. How absurd. Piggy's face blushed a dark red, and he shrank to the other side of Ralph.

"All right, shut up," said Ralph, lifting the conch. "We have to decide on being rescued."

"We need a chief to decide things," said Jack boldly, standing up. "And that should be me. I'm chapter chorister. I'm head boy."

Murmurs broke out between the boys. Helena couldn't help but think Jack would be the best leader.

"Let's have a vote," Roger said. The boys agreed.

"All right, then. Who wants Jack?" asked Ralph, standing up too.

The choir eagerly raised their hands. So did Helena. Jack looked very pleased at that fact. Ralph felt a bit gutted.

"Who wants me?"

"Yeah, Ralph!"

"Him with the conch!"

Helena knew why all the other boys had voted for Ralph. He had this stillness, this authority position handling the conch.

"I'm chief, then."

The boys cheered and clapped; Helena did not. She shared an angry look with Jack.

Ralph cleared his throat for silence and looked at Jack, who had gone a deep red, his electric blue eyes clearly angered.

"The choir belongs to you, of course," said Ralph quickly. "They can be whatever you want them to be."

Jack didn't hesitate. "Hunters."

The boys nodded admirably at the decision. They would need protecting, of course, and they would need food.

"Now, we need to decide if this is an island," Ralph continued, "and I will take three others with me on an expedition to find out."

He paused, glanced at the conch, and back up again. "I'll go, and Jack, Helena...and you."

He pointed at Simon, who smiled weakly and nodded, his black hair falling into his eyes.

Helena froze. Ralph, Jack and Simon jumped up from their sitting positions.

"You coming, Helena?" asked Jack, holding out his hand.

"What about the ululating noises? And the screaming? _Who _was it?"

Ralph swallowed noisily and Jack's expression was annoyingly unreadable. The other boys had stopped their chatter so it was a deafening silence.

"We'll find out who made it, Helena. Come on, we'll protect you."

"I can protect myself," Helena muttered to Ralph's retreating back. Jack smirked at the comment, whereas Ralph didn't hear it.

She walked nervously alongside Jack and Simon. They were trembling too – the horror of what previously surrounded them cemented into their minds.

Ralph ran to her side.

"What did Piggy want?" Helena asked.

"He was annoyed that I told everyone his name was Piggy," said Ralph, biting his bottom lip. "He looked hurt."

Jack snorted. "Who cares?"

"Better Piggy than Fatty," Helena said, dragging her eyes upwards.

"That's exactly what I said."

They continued to walk briskly on the sand, the air bright, their mood grim.

They reached the end of the island; sea birds perched on the rocks which the waves crashed against. The pink granite rock continued in jagged lines up towards the mountain. It was very uneven. There was quite a jumble of trees below this side of the mountain, impossible to get through.

"We'll have to climb to get to the mountain," said Ralph wisely. "There's less jungle. And we can look down below for anything ... _unusual_."

They nodded solemnly and began to scramble up. These pink cliffs rose up and narrow paths had formed, winding in and out towards the peak of the mountain.

Jumping down onto a path, high enough to see some parts of their new home, the four of them looked down into the gap in the forest.

They gasped in surprise and froze in fear.

Below them, on the underside of the mountain, was a camp.

A natives camp.

* * *

_A/N: So I'd just like to say a big thank you to my reviewers, readers and all of you who have added this story, or me, to your favourites and alerts. :)_


	4. The Savages

**Chapter Four – The Savages**

* * *

The four of them stood in fear, watching the scene below, their eyes widened in shock.

The natives were black men, women and children, painted black men, women and children, with nothing but shawls and rags covering their bodies. There were about 30 of them; the population was rapidly decreasing, evidently shown by the number of graves planted in the middle of the camp.

The camp itself was no longer than 500 metres – it would only take one to walk a few minutes and you would already be on the other side. A fire roared in the middle of the camp, graves surrounded this fire, and wooden houses, tied together by vines, had been dotted about randomly on the outside.

What scared the strangers above was the viciousness of the tribe below. Many of the men walked around, spears outstretched, teeth baring, while elderly tribe women would scream and yell, their wrinkled features taking the form of an old crone. Many tribe members had bright and unusual decorations on them, such as tusks from a boar dangling down their bodies by a short length of vine as a necklace or bright pins thrust through their nose skin. A very fat painted man had feathers shaping his head like a hat.

Then there came the sound of drums. The four of them swerved their heads to the edge of the camp, where a drum, made from what looked like _skin, _was being hammered by bulky men in perfect rhythm. Helena felt her heart beat match the drum's beat.

The man with the feathered hat led another painted man, his hands tied by vines, through the huts and towards the centre, where a wooden table stood. The painted man with the feathered hat seemed to be of great importance – he wore a white cloth, instead of dull rags, his head was held high and the other tribes people bowed down to him when he passed.

The painted man what had vines around his wrist was forcefully made to lie down on the wooden table, and these shackle-type things were attached to his wrists, replacing the vines, and ankles, then connected to the ends of the wooden tables by these little slave boys. The whole village had gathered around to watch silently, while one young woman, about the same age as the tied-down man was, started to sob loudly.

But watch what?

Helena felt the sweat sliding down her cheek, and her heartbeat was now much faster than the drumming. She started to tremble, her body trembling like the unsettling breeze which cooled the heat for the moment. Helena felt warm hands lace around her arms. Swerving her head, she saw that it was Jack calming her down yet her shortness of breath was due to his warm body pressed behind hers. He silently stepped next to her, letting her arms go and wrapping one arm around her waist to relax her. She had no idea what she was about to see, but she knew it would scare her.

Helena wrapped her arm around Jack's waist as the important painted man began to shout something in a funny language to the others surrounding him. Helena felt her stomach go all jumpy. She had no idea on whether it was Jack, or simply watching the camp below.

The important painted man stopped yelling. He nodded at these other natives, who were, to Helena's disgust, holding a sort of tray which carried sharp tools. One was a dagger, the blade jagged right to the end, and the others were like nothing they had ever seen. Some were round, with blades sticking out like a dangerous Frisbee, some were red hot.

As if they were to be used for torture.

Helena winced and Jack tightened his grip around her waist. She turned her head to look for Ralph and Simon; Ralph was pale and sweaty, clutching the granite as if for his life and Simon had his eyes fixed on the scene, the events not seeming to faze him.

The important painted man took the dagger off the tray and towered over the tied-up painted man. Ululating, the tribes people began to dance like madmen, stepping in and out of the graves, circling the scene. Helena's hair on the back of her neck prickled up.

Crying out, the important painted man bought the dagger down with a flash and pierced the other man's heart.

Not even time for a grunt, the jagged edge of the blade pierced through the many layers of skin, stopping the heart from beating and pumping blood. He twitched; his body fell limp and the _savages _cheered, except for that screaming woman.

Helena felt her heart stop when the dagger struck. Her heart beat soon sprang back to life as the celebrations continued below, beating so vigorously that it hurt her chest. Turning automatically to her side, Jack understood and wrapped his arms around her. She rested her chin on his shoulder.

How were these savages going to feel about letting them stay on this place? How were the school children going to survive, if they had savages on their backs all the time?

Ralph looked to Simon in utter shock, whose black hair was being held back by his sweaty palms, his eyes wide, never blinking, analysing the commotion.

"What do we do now?" Simon asked to no one in particular, his eyes still locked intently with the dead man on the wooden table.

Helena froze in Jack's arms. Simon had spoken way to loudly for her liking.

The celebrating had stopped. There was silence.

She turned her head slowly, knowing she was not going to like what she is going to see.

And she was right.

The savages were looking at them angrily, teeth gritted, spears pointed directly at them.

Without a moment's hesitation, the four of them ran. Continuing up the uneven path towards the peak of the mountain. Screaming, yelling and ululating followed them up the mountain. How they were going to outrun these people, Helena would never know.

Running so fast and unsteadily was proving difficult. Helena, following the boys lead, had cut her sides about a hundred times on the edges of the rock, and the blood was starting to seep through her blouse. The heat slowed her down, sweat was pouring off her, and she began to feel sick, weary and dehydrated. Helena could hear the tribe getting closer, and tears seeped out of the corner of her eyes in fear and dread of being caught. Breathing heavily, she contemplated in her mind of the bad things that would happen to her if she got caught. Being tortured by those instruments, being killed, being made to stay with the tribe for the rest of her life.

There was no place of safety. Flinging her head to one side, she saw the end of a spear creep around the last corner she had ran around. They were close now.

Cursing God under her breath, some unknown force pushed her on and she collapsed of exhaustion when she reached a platform of land, cutting off the path towards the mountain peak. Jack and Ralph pulled her up, and they hid behind a jumble of trees. All breathing heavily, knowing that this was it if they were seen, the four of them crouched and Helena felt her eyelids droop heavily and her body screamed for water.

"I need water," Helena muttered, but instead had a sticky hand clamped over her mouth.

The tribe sprinted past them, still screaming and ululating madly, and onto another path towards the peak of the mountain.

Letting out big sighs of relief, Jack looked at Helena's paling face worriedly.

"We need to get to some water," he said. "Now."

Before anyone could reply, a painted savage sprang out of nowhere, hissing and baring his teeth. They crouched in the darkness of the jumble, praying to anyone who would listen he wouldn't come any closer.

The savage kneeled and placed his nose to the callous ground, inhaling deeply. Helena covered her mouth with her hands so her heaving breathing wouldn't escape. He crept silently forwards, like an ape, inhaling their scent. He got so close that they could hear him breathing...

The sound of his tribe flying back down the mountain took him out of his trance and he ran back to them. The important man, or chief as they guessed, yelled loudly in the funny language, jabbing some with the spear in frustration, seething that he missed the chance to capture the strangers.

As soon as they were sure that the savages had began to follow the angry chief back down the mountain, they emerged from the jumble of dark trees, standing speechless for a moment.

Helena buried her head in her hands. "Oh my _God_," said her muffled voice.

"Right," said Ralph, his voice shaking, "we had best continue to do what we set out to. And then figure out how we are going to survive now they've seen us."

Helena shot a death glare at Simon, telling him how seriously annoyed she was with him for practically shouting, back when they witnessed the murder.

They continued to follow the path in an unbearable silence. The air was hot and humid; Helena still trembled slightly and felt very weak at the knees. Jack slid his hand into hers, sensing her grim mood, and she squeezed it for comfort.

They arrived at the peak of the mountain. Looking around, it was confirmed. They were on a Island. Helena groaned quietly. She knew the others thought it too.

There was no escape.

Glancing quickly, Helena spotted all the school kids on one part of the beach, luckily far off from where the tribe's camp was. The scar was striking to the eye, with scattered trees and fruit, as if someone had chucked them about randomly.

Grimacing, Helena suddenly felt very delirious and she clutched her stomach. Falling to the floor, the world around her swayed and looked blurry. Sharp, shooting pains attacked her from the inside too.

Jack fell to her side and put his arms behind her, so she was almost sitting up.

"I need water," she mumbled, clutching Jack's school shirt. Helena looked like she was in a trance or something.

"Ralph! Get some water!"

Jack helplessly cradled Helena as Ralph ran to get some water, while Simon stayed to help. He pressed his palm to her forehead. They were all hot, but she was off the scale. Wincing at the sight of her energy being drained from her body, Jack ordered Simon to fetch Ralph and tell him to hurry up, she needed the water more than ever now.

Helena managed to gaze into his terrified, wide bright blue eyes before she succumbed to the darkness. The ever-coming darkness. This time, she welcomed the darkness.


	5. Conflagration

**Chapter Five – Conflagration**

* * *

_"It's too late dear," said my father, gently wrapping an arm around his wife to comfort her. The tears continued to roll down her paling cheeks while her body began to shake violently. "It is too late. I signed up as soon as we left the village hall on Sunday. I cannot hide away from my duty!"_

_"So I'm going to be in America with our children, with no means of contacting you!" my mother forced out. "How will I know of your well-being? You're helping out other countries defend themselves against Him! You'll be shipped everywhere and anywhere. Think of your family!"_

_I clutched my little sister Carly while my older brother Danny had his arms around the both of us. We had our heads poked around the door, watching our parents argue._

_"I cannot hide away from my duty," my father repeated. "I have to do it for King and country!"_

_"Your work friends have brainwashed you! It was them who wanted to bask in the glory. It was you and your father who told our children horrible tales of the Great War – Lord knows what they'll be thinking when you head off to fight!"_

_Tears were freely spilling down my cheeks now. Carly didn't understand, she looked up to me with a scared expression. Danny looked terrified – no doubt thinking that he would be old enough to be conscripted in a few years time. Would the war be over by then? Over by Christmas? Of course not. The Great War taught people that._

_"When I return, I will be able to tell my children how I participated in the war!" my father said. "They will be so proud – and I hope, one day, I can tell my grandchildren what I did for my country."_

_My mother was running out of arguments, judging by her face. "But...but I love you George! There's a high chance you'll...that you will..."_

_She could not being herself to say it, but I knew what she wanted to say. That word – it was a taboo in this house. Especially since my great-uncles had perished in the Great War. _

_"I'm going to war, Ruth. And that's final."_

_So that was it. My family and I would run – run away to America while my father travelled around Europe to fight. It didn't seem right._

_But my mother and father had gone. Evaporated into thin air! The living room merged into a desolate wasteland; the sky was grey and bleak and dreary. Barbed wire scattered the place and I noticed that I was no longer clutching my little sister. I was gripping a sandbag and my older brother was in army uniform, trying to lift a heavy gun while another young lad attended my brother's trench foot._

_"You should have applied the whale grease, like the officer told ya," the young lad, with a cockney accent, sighed. "I don't know how you're gonna get across No Man's Land like that sonny."_

_I ran. I couldn't bear to see my brother like that. I stopped abruptly at the side of a long, dirty and muddy hole. I gulped. It can only be the trenches my grandfather explained to me. I looked around – men were living in the waterlogged trenches, just like he said. I saw a weak, wounded man being attacked by large rats. Others were being taken away in disgrace – it looks like they've got shellshock. Soldiers were sleeping in the marshes, or eating cold stew and sodden biscuits. The stench of dead men filled the air. I felt disgusted at how our heroes were treated. The trenches surely wouldn't be used for a second war._

_"ARE YOU REFUSING TO COMPLY WITH ORDERS, PRIVATE ADAMS?" bellowed an army officer. I turned to see Danny being towered over by an officer._

_He mumbled a reply. My heartbeat quickened and I longed to comfort him. I dreaded what that meant for him._

_"Well, that only calls for..." the officer grabbed him and dragged him out towards No Man's Land. What was he doing? My brother kicked and yelled out for him to stop, but it was too late. Another officer followed with a large pole and rope. I knew what that meant._

_I felt my emotions collapse in a way I had never felt before. I wanted to help – but I couldn't. Transfixed to the spot in fear, I knew they would tie him on a large pole in the middle of No Man's Land, so when the sun comes up, the Jerries would surely see him and kill him. A punishment for a scared eighteen year old._

_How do I get out of here? Why was I being shown this?_

_My father then grabbed the side of the trench, eyes locked on the distance ahead. I have never seen him look so fierce before. I gasped as every man in the trench did the same._

_"Good luck men!" hollered a sergeant. "OVER!"_

_At that last word, the soldiers climbed out of their homes and towards gunshots, to which the sound was echoed by our men. I yelled out in despair and covered my ears of the goddamn noise. My father blasted his gun at every man he saw, not thinking of any family that now dead man was leaving behind. Not that I'd care either; they're only Jerries. Some men were enjoying killing, judging by their ecstatic faces. I wondered what that felt like, playing God, taking lives._

_I saw him before my father did. I felt the dread and anxiety rise up in my stomach as a Jerry stormed over to my father._

_"DAD!" I screamed. "COME BACK! PLEASE COME BACK!"_

_I didn't see what happened to him; his fate. A burst of sunlight barred my view as my ears picked up the sound of boys voices._

Ralph watched as the schoolboys did his bidding. They grabbed any dead branches they could and started to build the all-important fire. Jack, of course, was leading the bunch, while Piggy was probably still wheezing in the jungle someplace.

The savages was still on Ralph's mind. He hoped they wouldn't bother them, when they set up their own civilization. Ralph just needed to remember the democratic government from back home. Leadership has overwhelmed the charismatic boy, but he would enjoy it while it lasted. They were going to work and have fun.

Ralph's mind then wandered to the meeting they had not five minutes ago. The argument that quickly dissolved to laughter and happiness at the thought of building a fire on the mountaintop. Ralph, being the leader, sat at the head log while Helena slept on a pile of leaves that Jack set up for her. Ralph, Jack and Simon were bombarded with questions on Helena, the Island, what the noises were. As soon as their chief held the conch up high, they were silent.

Naturally, Ralph told the boys of their findings – it was an island, fresh water in a stream, lots of fruit, no wild or dangerous animals. No adults to help them or get them home. They had a debate of the rules, the conch's new authority was decided and Piggy got ridiculed once again. Was that to be a habit at these meetings? Ralph couldn't help but laugh along.

Then he spoke of the savages. The inhumane people. He tried to calm everyone down, but the boys got scared as Simon described the savages graphically. Jack acted out the chase scene, much to Ralph's annoyance.

"LISTEN!" he shouted above the noises of fear and worry. "We will be safe here! We are quite far away from their camp, and they don't know where we are. We'll be all right, we'll work to survive and have fun too."

Everyone cheered at the words. Then Jack took the conch.

"We'll hunt! On our way back, we saw a pig. We will feast on pig! My hunters will be the best!"

The boys clapped in admiration. Jack smiled in triumph and resumed his place by his choir turned hunters. Simon didn't look happy with his new job.

Ralph took the conch back. "And another final thing. We need to make a fire on the mountain – well, smoke really. Otherwise a passing ship or plane won't notice –"

Jack scrambled up, excited at his chance to take charge, forgetting Helena, still unconscious next to him. "Yes! A fire! Come on, follow me!"

As Ralph watched the boys follow Jack eagerly, to eager for Ralph and Piggy's liking, he took Helena into his strong arms and carried her to the mountaintop.

Ralph's wandering stopped at the sound of Helena mumbling behind him. He quickly turned to see her still propped up on the rocks, but she was mumbling in her sleep. _Is she all right? Should I wake her?_

He let his eyes examine her as he edged closer. Her face had some colour back, and her once glossy brunette curls were now stained with mud and stuck around her face in sweat, as did her uniform. She mumbled and tossed this way and that – _must be having a nightmare._

Jack smirked in satisfaction as the boys tossed in large, dead branches to the pile, which would be their signal fire. He decided that, to get the boys and Helena to like him even more, he would split up his hunters to keep it going. Yes, that's the way. Helping Roger and Maurice with a particularly giant branch, more like a trunk from a small tree, they whooped in satisfaction at their feat. _I'm going to enjoy my time here. All the boys are going to have fun, while hunting will get me out of working for Ralph._

His eyes then came across Helena's body, propped up on rocks. Ralph was looking her over while she muttered and turned in her state. Any feelings or desires of power and authority were pushed aside as he began to worry about her again. Jack, frowning at Ralph admiring her body with his all-telling eyes, jogged over to see her.

Helena opened her eyes in a shot, eager to get away from the dream. Well, the first bit wasn't a dream, it was a memory. But what _was _the second part? A premonition? Helena's mind playing tricks? They surely wouldn't use trenches for _another _war, right?

The sun's rays made her blink at the sudden descent from gloomy to sunny. She turned her head to see Jack and Ralph's relieved faces, pushing her family and the war to the back of her mind.

"Hullo! How are you feeling?" Ralph asked gently.

"Can you feel any pain?" Jack demanded, sitting down next to her, moving a strand a hair from her brightened green eyes to behind her ear.

She shook her head. "No...just got a really funny feeling in my stomach, though."

Jack smiled. "That's good. Not the feeling funny bit. I just meant you feeling no pain, that's what's good..."

Helena giggled at his ramblings while Ralph smirked at him.

"Could I please have some water?" Helena asked, her throat a little raspy. She was soon given some by Ralph. She could taste the water from the streams, thankfully not sea water, and she admired the idea of drinking out of a coconut shell.

"Ralph!" a boy shouted from besides the pile of branches. "Got any matches?"

He shook his head while Helena took Jack's hand and jumped up. She found she was a bit wobbly on her feet but other than that, she felt okay.

"Unbelievable," she sighed, shaking her head, while being escorted by Jack towards the soon-to-be fire. "I've never fainted before in my life...and now I collapse twice in two days. This Island is an omen."

Jack laughed. "Maybe you're Simon's long lost sister!"

"Dear God, I hope not," Helena grimaced while Jack snickered. They stopped by the pile, watching boys make unsuccessful attempts to create fire with sticks. Piggy, wheezing slightly, appeared from behind a few trees.

"Hey Piggy, you _finally _made it up here," Ralph grinned while the other boys buzzed and laughed. "Got any matches?"

Helena scowled at his stupidity, "Oh, _of course _he carries matches around with him, such the rebel is our Piggy."

The schoolboys howled with laughter, so that Helena's lips twitched into a satisfied smirk.

"Hey, you're awake!" Piggy beamed, clutching the conch, which Helena was momentarily confused by.

"Nice observation," she retorted.

"Piggy's specs!" Jack suddenly shouted. "Grab 'em!"

After a fire was made, and green leaves were thrown on to make more smoke, Jack puffed his chest out in pride that it was he who got the fire going.

Sitting around the monstrous fire, the happy schoolboys and girl failed to notice Piggy stand up and try to get their attention.

"Listen to me, you hear!" he suddenly yelled, so silence fell around him. "We have to discuss ... the beast."

"The conch doesn't count up here, so shut up," Jack shouted back, glaring Piggy down from his sitting position.

"The conch doesn't...what are you on about?" Helena asked Jack directly.

"Whoever holds the conch gets to speak," he replied, sounding not so enthusiastic about the idea.

"Oh."

"Quiet!" said Ralph, who had also stood up, stopping any conservations.

"What beast then?" Helena asked Piggy.

"You don't have the conch! I'm getting to the point!"

"Sorry, I'm still learning."

Some boys sniggered while Piggy ignored her. "There's a littlun...he wants to tell everybody what he saw, right?"

A littlun with a mulberry birthmark on his cheek shook his head frantically, on the verge of tears. Piggy sighed.

"All right. He says he saw a beastie, a snake-thing in the trees..."

"A beastie! Are you trying to scare us all silly?" asked Helena in an miffed tone.

"He says that it hung in the trees and slithered around the branches –"

He was cut short; Ralph had taken the conch when all of the littluns, and some biguns, looked terrified at the thought of a tribe of savages and now a beastie.

"There is _no _beast! I tell you, there isn't! What he saw were vines, there are loads of them hanging around, and if the littlun saw it in the dark, then his mind was just playing tricks. We've got enough to worry about than a littlun's nightmare. Okay?"

There were claps and murmurs of agreement at his relieving words. Helena decided he was good at his job – he could be prime minister if he wanted to be.

The littlun that told of the beastie to Piggy, however, seemed to disagree. He burst into tears and ran off into the jungle.

Helena rolled her eyes. _"Kids."_

Jack nodded in agreement and smirked. "They're going to be _no _help to us, the littluns."

Before Helena could reply, Piggy screamed. "The fire! The fire! Put it OUT!"

"You put it out!" Helena shouted back but then realised why he was screaming. The flames had caught onto a few dead branches which were not in the pile.

"Oh no..." Helena whispered, quickly getting up and backing away. As fast as lightening, the flames sped through the dead branches and into the dead part of the jungle, engulfing the entire lot in a greedy gulp.

"Did we just kill the natives?" asked Jack excitedly, not helping to put the fire out.

Helena shook her head. "No. Their camp is that side, where the rocks pile up, remember?"

"Oh yeah," he said sadly, his face falling.

"Where's that littlun? With the birthmark? He went into that bit of the jungle. I don't see him now," Piggy wheezed, his hands on his knees.

The crowd was silent, as if mourning at a funeral. They might very well be.

Ralph shook his head. He had already failed as a leader. He hasn't protected all of his people and the fire had gotten out of control because of a superstition of a _beast. _Gripping the conch tighter than necessary and gritting his teeth, he spoke quickly, to break the silence more than anything else.

"That's enough whimpering Piggy. Now, we need people to look after the signal fire –"

Jack jumped at his chance. "I'll split up my hunters, Ralph! We'll be responsible for keeping the fire going!"

Despite the grim mood in the air, most boys clapped and cheered for him. Jack caught Helena's eye, looking very pleased with himself. Helena grinned.

"Maurice, Roger, you two are on watch tonight," Jack commanded, as the sun started to set, its colours spilling across the sky like watercolour paints.

"Keep it small!" Ralph also ordered. "And make sure _plenty _of green leaves are regularly thrown on, for more smoke."

The two choirboys looked at Jack, who was their leader in their mind, for his agreement – to which he nodded, contented that were reluctant to follow Ralph's orders. He then followed everyone else down the mountain.

As Helena descended down the mountain, the savages entering her mind once more, she almost laughed at the thought of sleeping with one eye open. For all they knew, the tribe were watching them now, plotting, planning.

The littluns walked unsteadily around Helena's legs, huddling together, crying for the loss of their friend.

"What do you littluns want?" she asked irritably, bothered by the kids crowding her legs.

They all started talking at once. "I'm scared!"

"I want protection from the beast and _them!"_

"I miss my mummy!"

"I'm hungry!"

"All right, all right, that's enough!" Helena hissed. "Go away, and seek _protection _from one of the biguns. Seriously, you need to grow up if you're going to survive on this Island."

The littluns stopped, stunned at her harsh words. There goes the motherly figure they desperately wanted. Helena sighed in relief as they moved away and Jack stepped by her side.

"Ralph looks so upset," Jack scowled, "he needs to move on, we've got other things to do. Hunt, work and have fun!"

Helena nodded. "Exactly. And, look on the bright side, that's one less _annoying _littlun to deal with."

Jack laughed and they arrived back at the platform.

As Helena settled down on a spot, ready to go to sleep, she listened to Ralph's orders of making shelters tomorrow, in case it rains like 'when we dropped in'. Helena sighed – _all in good time Ralph. Relax._

"Helena..." a soft voice whispered, nudging her arm. It sounded like Simon.

"Yeah?" she whispered back, looking up at his face, as he crouched on his knees next to her.

"Do you want to see something? I found a meadow...it's got gaudy butterflies that actually dance, bright birds and scented candle buds. It's –"

"Err, not to rain on your parade, but no. You sound very entranced by it, and I'm not, so goodnight. _Batty."_

Simon, whose mouth had now hung open, shrugged his shoulders and his cheeks tinged the slightest pink. Watching Helena roll away, he weaved through the sleeping boys, venturing towards his place.

Helena closed her eyes and waited for the nightmares. Instead of dreaming of her family and the war, nightmares of savages and beasts attacking the camp troubled her all night.


	6. Bliss and Torment

**Chapter Six – Bliss and Torment**

* * *

_It kept advancing closer._

_Helena, transfixed to the spot in fear, scanned the dark forest as the dense footsteps got closer. And closer._

_Sweat pouring off her brow, breathing heavily and unsure of the state she was in, Helena braced herself for the unknown._

_The painted men had found her. The savages, the murderers. Creeping slyly, they prowled like predators, weaving swiftly in and out of the wicked trees. Creating a circle around the innocent girl, the herd of savages raised their spears, cold eyes locked on their target._

_Helena fell to her knees in desperation, tears seeping out of terrified, wide green eyes._

_A blast of light, making Helena squint and the savages vanish into the fading darkness, erupted, setting Helena free of the recurring nightmare._

Helena shot up from her lying position, panting and shaking violently. Her mind began to race as she puts together the conflicted facts among the dreams and reality. As her heart began to slow, and the trembling of fear relaxed, her lines of vision focused and she knew she was back in reality.

The reality of being stuck on a Island. Away from the comforts of home. Away from the comforts of family around her. Away from the comforts of carelessness. Shifting in her makeshift bed of leaves, how Helena wished of a quilt and pillow. The night was cold and, when she awoke, the cold would bite at her skin, leaving fearsome goose bumps on her arms.

It was a hot morning, nothing less than Helena had expected. The heat of the glowing orb in the sky made the lagoon so much more inviting. The bright water teasing her, Helena decided to have a proper wash farther down the beach in the lagoon.

She got up too quickly, as the blood rushed to her head and she swayed dangerously for a moment. It was then that her ears picked up noises. Following the noises, Helena noticed Ralph, Piggy and several biguns and littluns by the meeting area on the platform, talking among themselves or gorging on fruit or helping with shelters, it seemed. However, many boys still slept around her.

Making her way to the lagoon, Helena stood at the water's edge, her nose wrinkling at the lingering, thick smell of salt in the air. It was a smell she detested with a passion. Moving farther down the beach, the dirt that caked her body crawled down, mingled with the beads of sweat. Turning her head to the lagoon, out of sight of the platform now, Helena plunged in, letting the magical water cleanse her body of the dirt and her mind of any worries she had.

Ralph, stopping with the shelters for a moment, watched as Helena kicked at the water's edge, making her way farther down the beach, until she was out of sight. Ralph knew she went for a wash. Her skin was overgrown in dirt and dry blood and the sweat glinted off her in the sunlight.

The mood was sombre that morning around the camp. Everybody seemed quiet, mourning the death of the littlun from last night. Ralph pushed it out his mind, he did not want to lose his sanity in thinking that it was _his _fault the littlun got lost in the flames. _How had we been so careless? I am supposed to be a leader, protect my camp, preserve order. _The guilt Ralph suffered overnight overcame him that he thought he was losing his mind. He remembered how the flames consumed the dead part of the jungle, ravaged the wildlife. The littlun must have been made to suffer ...

Simon snapping a twig in half brought Ralph back from his nightmare. He needed to focus now, on work, making these shelters was the most important thing to the leader.

Helena made her way back from having a relaxing wash, the worries she had flooding back. Never in her life had she ever worried so much, that was the adults job! Helena found herself constantly thinking of food, getting rescued, water, her family back home. It was too much.

Feeling the intensity in the air, Helena stayed away from the meeting area. Partially because they need to get over the littlun's death, and because she wanted to avoid doing _any_ work for the group.

"Hey, Helena!"

She would recognise that voice anywhere. It was Jack. Helena eagerly joined him and his hunters, who were sharpening their sticks.

Licking his cracked lips, Jack spoke again. "We're going to explore the Island. Do you wanna come?"

A smile pulled upwards on Helena's lips. "Yeah, I would love too."

Jack grinned in satisfaction. "Here, I made you this. You are one of us now."

Grabbing an already-sharpened, thick wooden branch, he pushed it into Helena's eager awaiting hands. Their fingers brushed against one another. Jack winked at Helena, and released the spear.

Turning around towards the forest, a little blush spread over Jack's features.

Helena grinned, and followed her fellow hunters and explorers into the forest.

The forest was a beautiful, ravishing place. Helena was moved by it. It was a peaceful place, when no sounds of the painted tribes people could be heard.

The deeper they went, the more enchanting it got. The forest made them all forget of the savages living in the secluded part, down by the mountain.

Lush trees and peculiar plants twisted this way and that; rays of sunlight scattered the ground, creating bloodcurdling shadows. _No wonder the dead littlun thought he saw a beast!_

Springs from the mountain settle in the callous ground throughout the forest, letting the hunters stop to drink when needed. The spring would murmur slightly and the harsh sunlight would bounce of the shimmering water, creating a weird mist in the ray's shadow.

Exotic birds of all shapes and sizes and colours flock the Island, flashing past the schoolchildren teasingly and flocking together in the sky, looking like shiny diamonds, emeralds and other rocks. The birds were noisy, as were the insects, and the sound of the insects were all around them, humming. Nature was probably disturbed by the excited chatter of the hunters.

Helena inhaled the air, the fresh earth, the flowers sweet smell, while listening to Jack's carefree laugh next to her. Locking hands with the redhead, excited to have re-lit the electric feeling, Helena smiled and thought that she could stay here forever.

Jack spotted it first. A pig, aimlessly wandering down a trail. It looked big enough to feed the entire camp.

"We need meat," Jack said simply, pushing his black cap down. "This is what we will hunt. Now, do as I say ..."

Talking tactics and following the pig silently down the trail, the hunters knew their positions and what to do.

Forming a ring, the hunters took to their assigned spots. Some in the trees, some in the bushes, but Jack, Helena and Roger were bent double, nose inches from the clammy surface. The vines and creepers hung in the trees above them, the wind held its breath while the hunters waited for Jack's signal.

The forest was still. The birds, insects, the gentle hum in the air awaited for the hunt to begin. Flaring his nostrils, Jack stole forward, the hunters that were on the ground silently following. Creating chilling shadows, the hunters in the trees became ape-like and continued to pursue the oblivious pig.

Yelling, Jack and his hunters chased the pig down the trail. Her heart beating vigorously, Helena bit down on her cracked lips, causing them to bleed. But she did not notice. She followed Jack, her spear raised above her head, and she welcomed this new desire to penetrate the pig's flesh; to kill it.

To them all, it was seductive, maddening – they all screamed and yelled at one another, trying to prevent the pig from escaping their wrath.

* * *

It was to be bad luck. For most of the day, they had hunted the pigs, always improving. No matter who threw their spears, no matter how much the pig squealed, the promise of meat was not to be kept. Collapsing in vein, the hunters listened sadly to the pattering of pig's trotters once again, which eventually died away. Breathing heavily, Helena rose to her full height and grimaced, dropping her spear. She had clutched it so tightly that it made her palm turn a deathly white colour.

Jack gazed at the spot where the pig had been liberated. Straight through someone's legs. His bright blue eyes were pulsing mad. _We need a lot of practice and work. Nothing I cannot handle, we shall have meat in no time._

"Let's make our way back," the lead hunter sighed, craning his neck to see the sun's position. "The sun will set soon."

But then he remembered. Jack was on fire watch tonight.

"Helena?"

Helena stopped and turned to see Jack. "What is it?"

"I'm on fire watch...do you want to keep watch with me?"

There was nothing Helena would like to do more. She nodded. "Okay, let's go!"

Sliding his fingers through hers, they cautiously trekked through the jungle, towards the mountain. As it got darker, strange shadows and long snake-like things surrounded them, enclosing them in until they stopped.

Helena steered her body towards Jack, seeking protection. "Oh God, this is so crackers."

Jack, trying to act confident, put her arm around her and they pretty much ran to the peak.

"Finally –"

"You've been ages!"

Samneric were standing around the fire, their hands over the flames.

"You have been relieved," said Jack firmly, sitting in the entrance to the shelter, facing the dark drop into the ocean. Helena sat next to him, staring at the black sky. There was no moon tonight, for the needed light.

Without another word, Samneric clutched each other tightly as they began their descent back to camp.

"I have an idea," said Jack excitedly, "we should paint ourselves, when we go hunting. That way, the pigs will not see, we shall have blended in and we can get them quicker."

"Good idea! There is some clay stuff by the spring's bank, we could use that."

Jack's eyes lit up in the darkness. "Show me!"

"In the morning," Helena grinned.

Jack laughed. "Yeah...good point."

Helena shuddered suddenly, the wind harassing her bare skin.

"Are you cold?" Jack whispered, as the tribes people evil cries lifted with the wind.

Helena nodded, embarrassed by the ordeal.

"Here..."

Helena felt long, muscly arms wrap themselves around her and she leaned into the person they belonged to, and as he rubbed her arms with his warm, sweaty hands, he let his head rest on top of hers.

As Jack stroked her arms, Helena shivered inside – but not of the cold. She was not sure what it was, but it was such a pleasant feeling. A fire was raging inside her, almost telling her to act, but to do what, was what Helena was unsure of. She could not control her heartbeat, and she could hear Jacks beating fast when she leant into his warm chest.

Jack gasped unwillingly when Helena's finger traced circles on his knee and upper leg. Helena smirked to herself and continued, while Jack squeezed her tightly. Their body heat allotting the warmth for them both, Helena and Jack moved into the shelter, lying down on the smooth grass laid out for them.

She had never felt this feeling before, as her stomach continued to tickle her insides. She _knew_ she could stay here forever.

Uncertain of whether to make a move, Jack gazed down at the girl he was snuggling. He found it hard to tear his eyes away, or close them to sleep. _What was it with this girl?_

The tingling sensations they both felt made them all the more sleepy. Drifting to another place, the wind gently lulled them both to sleep.

A few idyllic weeks of living passed. A whole two months, though they all thought it was much less. The hunters would hunt for pigs every day, the other biguns would collect fruit, water and help with the shelters. But, after a few weeks, the children would get bored. The less they worked and the more they played, annoying Ralph no end.

After two months of being on the Island, Jack and Helena had grown closer; to the point of becoming practically glued together. They would hunt together, sleep in the same shelter (though only sometimes, if they're back late from hunting), stay on firewatch together, and confide with each other their deepest fears and secrets.

Also over the two months, all of the children were either still badly sunburnt or peeling, had little or no clothes left and some were even falling ill. The littluns had terrible sicknes and diarroehea due to the bad fruit they lived off. The hunters had caught a few little piglets, but nothing much bigger. The biguns were given first privelige to the meat.

Helena had her own shelter, the littluns had a shelter and the biguns would share the other rickety ones.

As the days wore on, Helena thought less of her family, especially her father, less of home, less of being rescued. She would think more of Jack, more of hunting and killing, more of staying here forever.

However, the one thing that was always present in her mind was the savages. They had made no move against them thankfully, but somehow Helena always worried they were plotting and planning something. It is their Island after all, and they must hear how noisy the hunters get during the day.

And Helena was right.

Because, one night, Helena heard movement outside her shelter. Propping herself up by her elbows, Helena squinted and looked through the gaps in the wooden branches.

Nothing could prepare her for what she saw.

A pair of animalistic, broad yellow eyes with strange, painted markings around them sprang out of the darkness, peering through the cracks of the shelter. Staring back at him were frightened green eyes, but the savage continued looking at the foreign girl possessively.


	7. Acquisition

**Chapter Seven – Acquisition**

* * *

The savage prowled into the rickety shelter, on his hands and feet, his nose close to the callous ground.

Helena gripped the leaves in which she lay tightly, her eyes not straying from this intruder. She was too scared to scream, move, escape. It was like she had fallen into one of her dreams.

His lips curled upwards, revealing his black baring teeth. He flared his nostrils, and pounced without warning. Helena shrieked and threw herself sideways, narrowly avoiding the savage's open arms.

It only made him angrier. Clenching his fingers, he cornered Helena into the side of the shelter. The walls of the shelter vibrated, caused by Helena's uncontrollable trembling.

The darkness made him even more terrifying. His wide yellow eyes acted as his lanterns, and his strange markings around his body lit up the night menacingly. Helena could see nothing of his face but of the cruel and evil yellow eyes, and the markings around them.

The painted man gripped her wrists tightly, and she found herself falling victim to his strength. Dragging Helena out of the shelter, she unwillingly yelled out in desperation at the sight before her.

More savages had surrounded her shelter, smirking at her. All she could make out were those malicious, wicked yellow eyes and their incandescent markings. Unexpectedly, Helena, who just wanted to be free, proceeded to thrash out violently towards the man that was holding her captive, before her mouth was clamped down by a dirty hand and two tenacious men overpowered her.

Grabbing the weak girl's feet, her kidnapper let her tired body crumble as she slowly slid across the ground. Her head hit the ground many times, and her mouth would gather up dirt from the forest floor. Stretching her limp arms out, Helena let her fingers grab the floor greedily. However, it didn't make the savage release his prisoner. Her feet were still clamped in his hands. The dirt simply peeled off the ground and into her nails.

Sobbing and yelling out in anger, Helena accepted she was being taken. To their camp. They had prevailed.

Helena was greeted by more yellow orbs and florescent colours. Most, if not all, cheered, ululated, made funny animal voices in triumph. Picking up their new possession, the head of the wild pack threw her into a big shelter. Slamming the wooden door shut, followed by a clicking noise, Helena sat up, trembling so much it hurt.

Rubbing her tired, dulled eyes, she edged towards the fire, burning in the middle of her prison. Helena's body, battered and bruised and bleeding from being dragged along a scabrous surface, ached for medical attention.

A whimpering sound alerted Helena as she threw her head upwards in shock. Rubbing her sore head, nothing could prepare her for what she saw.

In the corner of the wooden shelter, the boy with the mulberry birthmark slumped over a rough sheet whimpering, it seems, in pain.

Helena gasped in confoundment. Her heart felt like ice.

He was lost to the flames. Everyone knew that. Was she seeing ghosts now? Had she gone mad?

"H-Helena?" his broken voice whispered, the wind bringing his voice to her.

She crawled over slowly, reached out an arm and placed it gently on his shoulder. To check he was real.

In an instant, the little boy jumped up and threw his arms around Helena's shoulders. Shocked at the sudden movement, nevertheless it lifted her spirits, she hugged the littlun back. For the first time, she wanted this littlun to be safe, to know he'll be okay.

"What have they done to you?" she asked gently.

He snatched his arms back, and sat, shuddering. "They...they beat me. They would say the same words over and over again. I said nothing. I got beaten more. I hurt so much!"

His eyes widened like an owl's and he screamed in terror. Helena, taken aback by the sudden outburst, blinked back tears as the littlun covered his eyes and rocked back and forth.

"What's your name?" Helena murmured, rubbing his arms soothingly.

"Donald." The littlun uncovered his eyes and looked toward the ceiling of the hut. Light poured in slowly, telling the schoolchildren that the sun was descending to give them some hope, the darkness defeated.

"Donald, listen to me. No-one will hurt you again. I promise."

Helena sounded braver than she was. In fact, she was petrified of Donald's fate. And of hers. The sound of drums pierced their hearts and the fear they felt multiplied.

Meanwhile, outside in the square of the tribe, the tribes people had gathered around their leader, drinking his words intently. The elderly, or the crones, yelled in agreement to his words, the dominant males stretched their spears in his direction, and others started a ritual dance. The drums echoed throughout the forest, bouncing back from the peak of the mountain.

The chief stood by the wooden table, which was stained with blood. A deputy, it seemed, to the chief, exited the prison, vines wrapped around a schoolchild's wrist.

The child was watched intently by the tribe, as the painted man led them to the middle of the circle. The child trembled uncontrollably, but could not be free of the vines.

The other child stood at the doorway of the prison, hands gripping the doorframe tight, screaming and yelling for mercy.

The child was forcibly made to lie down on the table, as the vines made way for shackles, connected to the table. The child's weak body could not fight back.

A native confidently sauntered forward, carrying a tray of sharp tools.

The chief stopped yelling and the camp fell deathly silent. The child at the doorway whimpered, no longer able to yell or scream.

The chief took the dagger from the tray. Stepping up onto some granite, the savage towered over the child, who couldn't cry any more tears.

Ululating, the tribes people began to dance like madmen, stepping in and out of the graves, circling the scene. Like before.

Crying out, the man of great importance swung his dagger down. The child from the doorway saw nothing, but the distraught innocent heard the sound of sharp metal and flesh collide.

* * *

_A/N: Cliff hanger! I know I said to some of you that I'd be updating this last week, but I struggled to write this, hence its shortness. I just didn't know what was going to happen! Again, sorry for the shortness, but I have loads of ideas for the next one. Anyway, please tell me what you think._


	8. Hostility

**Chapter Eight – Hostility**

* * *

Ralph forced his eyes open. Breathing heavily, he listened to the footsteps outside of his shelter. He listened to the palm leaves cower underneath the owner's feet. He listened to his rapidly beating pulse.

Sitting up, Ralph froze and gripped the leaves on which he sat. He recognised those voices, that language, their snarling.

Ralph's chocolate brown eyes widened when he heard the sound that he didn't want to hear.

A scream.

A loud pitched scream. A girl's scream.

There was only one girl on this island.

The biguns around him awoke with a start. Piggy started to wheeze in and out while the others gazed at Ralph in shock.

Ralph let out a fearful whisper. _"__Oh no."_

Something inside him erupted. The chief of the civilised scrambled out of the shelter.

Helena's shelter had been ransacked. And there was no Helena around.

The Island was still once more. Insects continued their twilight melody, waves rolled onto the beach.

Ralph fearfully moved his head from Helena's shelter to the ominous path into the forest next to it.

If Ralph listened hard enough, the soft patter of footsteps could be heard. Swallowing noisily, Ralph shuffled a few paces so he was standing at the edge of the path.

Shadows created by the moonlight danced on the overcast trees. Vines twisted this way and that. The once beautiful colourful plants and the friendly wildlife turned into monsters and beasts, created by the darkness.

Ralph heard the biguns nervously start forward from their shelters. A few stopped directly behind him. One bigun matched his height, and Ralph knew immediately that it was Jack.

Murmurs spread throughout the group as those all familiar bright markings, only familiar to Ralph, Jack and Simon, darted around a corner for the final time.

"They've got her, haven't they?" asked Jack in a shaky whisper. He squinted his eyes, making out Ralph's outline next to him.

Jack didn't need an answer; Ralph nodded anyway.

"What are we going to do?" shouted Piggy, clutching the conch.

"What if they come back for another one of us?" screamed out another bigun.

"We have to move camps!" shouted another.

One look at the collapsed shelter was all it took. The littluns yelled out in despair and some began to tremble uncontrollably.

Ralph winced and pushed back his fair hair.

"All right! Quiet!"

The schoolchildren gradually grew quiet, as if a wave washed over the group, until the only noise came from Simon comforting the littluns.

"There's nothing we can do–"

Jack felt his face flush with anger. _"__What?"_

"There's nothing we can do _when it's dark._ I need time to think. Like I keep saying, I can't come up with things straight off."

Ralph pulled at his underlip. "We...we need to talk about this in the morning. When it's daylight."

"Ralph! We have to go and rescue Helena! Right now, don't you see?" Jack kicked the trunk of the nearest tree in frustration.

The other biguns seemed to agree with Ralph. A buzz rose.

"Yes, that's sensible. When there is light."

"I agree with Ralph–"

"All right then. Go back to your shelters. They won't be back tonight."

Uncertainly, the biguns made their way back to the shelters, fumbling around in the dark.

Ralph and Jack took another look down the winding path.

The leader felt his stomach drop and twist into knots. He didn't have a good feeling about her capture.

Jack couldn't stop the thoughts and images entering his mind about Helena. _Was she okay? Was she hurt?_ Jack felt this overwhelming desire to protect her, to keep her safe, to hold her. He had never felt that before.

As Jack lay down in his shelter with his fellow hunters, he planned his advancing day.

_My hunters and I will train tomorrow. Learn to fight with our spears. When we finish training, we will try for a pig. This time, a big pig. If it's a war the savages want, a war they shall get. I will bring her back._

None of the biguns slept. Many silently cried, the seriousness of the situation sinking it, many sat by the door anxiously. Many listened to the familiar Island sounds, giving them temporary peace.

The sunrise was just around the corner. Ralph, lying on his back, watched the ceiling of his shelter intently as light embarked over him.

As the light began to caper over his body, Ralph crawled out of his shelter and paced back and forth on the platform.

Piggy sat at the front of the meeting area, clutching the conch once more. Biguns slowly made their way to the meeting, nibbling at fruit. Ralph looked startled at the site before him. Most of the biguns had red, puffy eyes and they could not eat the fruit. The littluns refused to come out of their shelter.

The hunters sat menacingly in a line next to Jack, gripping their spears proudly.

"Listen everybody," came Ralph's calm tone, "we need to–"

"Jack Merridew!"

Ralph turned his head irritably. Jack had grabbed the conch of Piggy, who was on all fours.

"I'm talking, Jack," Ralph snarled in annoyance.

"You don't have the conch! _And _I have an idea."

Ralph sighed and sat down, defeated. The biguns leaned in, eager to hear Jack's plan.

"Everyone will have spears. Sharpened spears. We'll practise fighting each other and, when I think we're ready, we'll ambush them."

Cheers exploded from the biguns. Piggy crossed his arms and looked at Jack furiously. "No! No, that won't work!"

"Boys armed with _sticks?_" Ralph asked in exasperation.

Jack ignored them. "Don't you all see? We'll learn, every day, and someone will watch the enemy camp, to check on Helena!"

The biguns jumped up excitedly and crowded around Jack and his hunters.

"This'll be a real war!"

"If only we had guns, like back at home!"

"We'll wipe this Island free of the–"

Maurice was cut short by the sound of drums.

The drum beat echoed throughout the entire forest.

Jack's face was drained of any colour. Ralph fell to his knees. He, Jack and Simon knew all too well what that meant.

The biguns looked at each other in confusion and fear.

The schoolboys stayed silent.

The drums got faster.

And faster.

And it was over.

"That's it, then," Ralph told the group, from his kneeling position. "She's dead."

The biguns cried out to Ralph.

"How do you know that?" asked Maurice, a tear sliding down his cheek. She was a good friend of his.

Jack let his spear slid out of his hand, and it rolled away, making the only sound. A look of disbelief flittered over his face.

"Ralph, it might not be Helena, it could just be one of their own–" Simon said quietly.

Ralph shook his head. "No, that ritual would have been for...for her."

Ralph's voice began to shake. He stood, let his hair cover his eyes, and he stumbled away into the forest, tears falling ferociously down his pallid cheeks.

The biguns began to murmur between themselves.

Jack turned to his hunters, his saddened blue eyes locked with Roger's dark, emotionless eyes.

"She's not dead. I know she's not. I can feel it."

Roger raised his eyebrows, "Merridew, are you in total denial? Didn't you hear Ra–"

"Roger!" barked Jack, and Roger's mouth closed immediately. "Maurice, gather as many biguns as you can. Then meet us at Castle Rock. We've got some training to do."

* * *

Meanwhile, Donald continued to clutch the doorframe. Glancing up, he saw Helena lying on the slab table with two painted men towering over her.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews so far! And all of my readers. And I know, it was another short chapter, but I've decided to break up my ideas, so there'll be short and quick chapters. Don't forget to let me know your thoughts._


	9. Preparations

**Chapter Nine – Preparations**

* * *

Helena rolled her eyes downwards from her lying position. A native held his arm over her heart protectively. Helena let out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes again. The dagger, swung down by the chief, had pierced the other native's arm, barricading her flesh from the infliction.

* * *

The hunters stood in a line, atop Castle Rock, facing their leader. From head to toe, they were concealed in war paint. Jack was shown the clay-like overlay by Helena – she spotted it down by the bank, where two littluns were throwing it at each other.

The war paint was, in a sense, a mask. A mask that told the hunters they were free to be whoever they wanted to be – in this case, an army.

It was late afternoon now. The sun was determined to make the 'training' Jack was putting them through difficult – its harsh rays scorched the bare skin of the former choir as they endured the toil.

The mood around Ralph's side of the Island was that of a mournful one, and was dispiriting. The biguns jumped at every shadow, filled with grief at the thought of another death, unsure of what to do on the Island.

The familiar sounds of boys playing in the lagoon, in the sea, on the sand and the palm terrace could not be heard. Not even the birds could be heard cawing harshly in the hot sky. The waves crashed angrily against the beach.

For what must have been the hundredth time, the hunters continued to ready themselves for the ambush on the savages camp.

Using their enemies for inspiration, they began.

Jack joined the line.

The boys gritted their teeth.

They raised their deadly spears, freshly sharpened by Jack's knife.

Chanting and ululating, the hunters launched at each other violently. Spears thrashed against other spears, and the loud rattle the impact created rang down to Ralph's camp. The biguns and the distressed littluns were used to these noises now.

Jack shouted instructions every now and then, often standing back to watch the progress his little army had made. The redhead would usually shout commands like, "LUNGE towards him, Maurice!" or "To the left, Roger!" and "Don't flinch or retreat, Bill!"

As Roger battled Maurice, he decided to try out a tactic Jack spoke about earlier.

He made a 'false attack' on his opponent. Advancing cautiously, Roger snarled and pretended to launch his spear at Maurice. He ducked and retreated, holding his spear defensively in front of his face.

Realising no attack had been made, it was too late to act upon this. Roger had already advanced forward at a great speed, and he thrust the spear under Maurice's armpit, pretending to enjoy the penetration of flesh.

Roger imagined twisting the spear through his heart, so the savage on the other side of the Island would be made to suffer. He imagined yanking the spear out, wiping the end down of blood and watching his enemies body crumple before his eyes. What if it was the chief he disposed of? Oh, the victory...

"That's enough for today!" Jack yelled over the shouting, the shrieking, the screaming. "We've worked hard enough. Soon, we'll be tough enough to take on the swine's that have stolen Helena!"

His fellow hunters cheered and clapped and hollered. Jack smirked in victory at his feat. Looks like he's much braver than Ralph. _He still thinks Helena's dead..._

"Now, listen. Shut up! We have to check the other camp, and we'll need a spy to keep watch on Helena while the rest of us hunt a piggy..." Jack sees Roger volunteer himself for the job. "Right then Roger. Forget about going on fire watch."

* * *

Ralph floated on the twinkling water of the lagoon.

All was still around him. There was no playful splashing, no littluns throwing sand at each other, no Piggy shouting for the boys to stop acting like kids.

Ralph watched the cloud-less light blue sky. He wondered whether Helena was up there, in Heaven, if it existed. Ralph, since being stranded on the Island, began to doubt his religion. Sure, he goes to church every Sunday with his family, every respectable family does. But they would have been rescued by now. Helena and the littlun wouldn't have died.

Ralph felt his eyes sting with a mixture of tears and salt water, at the thought of two deaths. Especially Helena. He missed her presence – especially when she returned from hunting in a joyful mood. _What I am going to tell the headmaster when we get rescued?_

Ralph felt like breaking down, and giving Jack leadership. _I cannot do it anymore. I have failed as a leader._ Two of his own group have died. The savages knew where their camp was all along. Now, they were all under jeopardy, particularly now Jack seems to think Helena is still alive and is assembling a sort of army.

The fair-haired leader would have laughed at the thought, if the situation was not so serious.

"Ralph..."

Piggy came to the lagoon edge, looking at Ralph nervously. He had not spoken to anyone since the news that Helena was assumed dead, and Piggy decided things needed to be arranged.

"We need to have a meetin'," Piggy said, determined to make him see sense. He can't grieve forever.

Ralph sighed, knowing Piggy was right. He has other priorities – grieving is last on the list.

* * *

Roger exhaled in annoyance.

He couldn't see the camp in which the savages call their home.

That means one thing to him: he won't be able to spy for Jack, to see if Helena's still alive. Roger doubted she was. Why would the natives keep her alive? Jack heard the sound of drums. He knew what it meant, his face gave him away.

_But, does Jack know she's dead? Is he doing this for revenge?_

Roger shook his head of the claims against his leader. He _must _trust Jack's judgment. Besides, killing and going to war seems more fun than hunting pigs.

Crouching behind a tall, thorny bush, Roger could not get any closer without distracting the guards on duty. They seemed to be not letting anyone _out, _let alone try to sneak in.

Roger froze in his spot. He heard a girl's scream.

It did not sound like a native's scream. It was definitely Helena. Roger smirked in satisfaction – at least he had something to go back to Jack with.

She screamed again. This time, she screamed a name.

_Jack!_

Roger sprinted back to the pig trail.

* * *

Ralph cleared his throat and squinted at the meeting in front of him. The biguns looked unhappy, uninterested.

Piggy started, holding the conch. "Now, we need to discuss movin'-"

"Smoke!" Ralph yelled, holding up his fair hair. "Smoke! Smoke! There, on the horizon!"

For the first time that day, Ralph's end of the Island became alive. The schoolchildren looked around excitedly, cheering in happiness, following the trail of smoke.

"- don't you see, Piggy? She missed getting rescued. She missed –"

His voice began to shake.

"No, she didn't miss it," Piggy said quietly, looking at the mountain top.

"Piggy, not you as well. She's gone! I suppose, we'll have a body to give-"

"No, I don't mean that. There's no smoke, Ralph."

Ralph whipped around, cutting off his gaze with the disappearing smoke, and glared at the mountain peak.

"NO! NO! OH, please God, NO!"

Ralph, cursing Jack and his hunters under his breath, flew through the jungle, fighting with branches and vines, barring his way to the path that leads up to the mountain. Barring his way from civilisation.

At the mountain top, Ralph fell to his knees in front of the useless, burnt out branches and dead green leaves.

The others gathered around him, staring at the wreckage on the floor. They stared in disbelief. One moment, they were all getting rescued. And the next, all hope was lost. Gone.

The ship had gone. The smoke left no trail in the sky.

Every single head turned to the bottom of the mountain when shouting schoolboys were heard,

"Kill the pig, cut its throat, spill it's blood!"


	10. Reflection

**Chapter Ten - Reflection**

* * *

All she could see was darkness. Helena felt like she was in a tomb. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she shut her eyes tightly. For the first time in awhile, she thought of her family.

Her father. Was he fighting? Was he dead?

Her family, waiting for her to arrive in America.

She thought of her little sister, Carly. She was only seven, but so bright for her age. Helena smiled at the memories of Carly. She thought of her older brother Danny. A spark of hope ignited in her brain, at the memories of being beaten by him at a game of football.

Helena ran her hand through her hair. It was grubby, greasy and knotted. It seemed normal to her now. She stank of sweat all the time, though no one noticed. All of this was normal. She couldn't even imagine being home, or in Texas.

Her body was still so sore from being dragged along the rough surface. _Last night_. Had time gone so slow?

She didn't know where she was. The native that had saved her life threw her in a cave, and rolled the boulder over the entrance.

She wondered where Donald was, and if he was okay. The last thing she remembered was him screaming. Helena opened her eyes in a panic and the memory dissolved.

The boulder rolled open and the sunlight hit Helena's eyes, temporarily blinding her. Ducking her head into her knees, someone entered and the sound of feet stopped before her.

Shaking, Helena lifted her head. It was the savage that had saved her life. He had a large white sheet, it seemed, around the gash the dagger had caused.

To Helena's surprise, he didn't look all that angry. No more than usual, anyway.

He turned his painted face slowly, so he was facing the semicircle of sunshine. After staring at the exit intently for a few seconds, he barked an order. A demand. The boulder-door thing rolled shut. Helena gasped. She could only see his markings now, and they were advancing closer.

Helena leapt to her feet and backed into the corner, at a loss of what to do.

Sweat slid past her eyebrows, tickling her skin. She clenched her fists, ready to fend him off. This was no time to be a coward. All she could hear was the fetch and miss of her breath, even his footsteps were deadly silent.

What she couldn't see was the savage looking her up and down greedily. Licking his smooth, dark lips, he snarled and leapt forward.

Helena threw herself to the side, with so much force that her head smashed against the wall.

Groaning, Helena was not prepared for what came her way next.

An unwanted hand grabbed her thigh, to high up for Helena's liking.

_Oh God, help me please! Anything but this..._

Something inside of her triggered and her knee popped up between his legs. The savage merely grunted, but it was enough for Helena to slid out of his hard grip on her leg.

He got angry.

Seizing the white girl's arms, the native pulled her across the floor – which he guessed was Helena's weakness; her whole body was tired.

Her body began to be pulled up a slope. She found herself to be lying on a slab table, very much like the one she almost got killed on.

Like before, her hands and feet were in shackles.

Helena stared at the ceiling of the cave.

She heard the sound of a metal instrument being dragged off of a metal tray.

Her brain still thrashed around in her skull.

She shouldn't look.

She wouldn't look.

She _couldn't_ look.

A sharp pain hit her ribcage as something metal was brought down with a force.

Helena screamed and shut her eyes. She thought of the first day on the Island. She remembered what she saw - _holding a sort of tray which carried sharp tools. One was a dagger, the blade jagged right to the end, and the others were like nothing they had ever seen. Some were round, with blades sticking out like a dangerous Frisbee, some were red hot. As if they were to be used for torture._

Helena whimpered at the thought.

_If I die, please let it be now._

The savage screamed in her face.

Helena didn't understand a word. She remained silent.

The pain seared though her once more. She screamed.

It was how Donald described it - _they beat me. They would say the same words over and over again. I said nothing. I got beaten more._

Helena felt her body go rigid at the third blow. Screaming, she felt a cold ooze of blood trickle down her chest.

Her head continued to pound.

The savage screamed the same words again. Helena shook her head.

This time, she screamed a name.

_Jack!_

"Please come and get me," she whispered, frustrated, to the ceiling.

* * *

Jack lay in his shelter that night, unable to sleep.

What had Roger told him? That he heard Helena screaming, and it was definitely her. And then she screamed _his_ name. No one else's, just _his_ name.

The red head gritted his teeth at the thought of the savages torturing her.

He exhaled. What could he do by himself, tonight? Nothing. He had to let her go. Until he was ready.

"All in good time. I'll come and get you soon," he whispered to the ceiling of the shelter. He was convincing himself, more than anything.

Of course, Ralph didn't believe Roger. He _still_ thinks Helena is dead.

Thinking of Ralph, Jack cast his mind back. He and his hunters returned to the mountain, in victorious spirits. It was their biggest pig yet. They chanted and danced around the pig, until one by one they fell silent when they finally noticed the tense atmosphere.

"You let the fire go out," Ralph said to him.

"We were training to get-"

"SHE'S DEAD!" Ralph screamed back.

Everyone looked at one another uncomfortably. The hunters scoffed at the chief.

"There was a ship," Simon told the hunters.

"We could have been rescued!" Ralph whispered. "Everything is going wrong..."

Jack shrugged. "So what if there was a ship? There will be another! We have to make preparations to ambush the natives!"

Ralph began to shake with rage. No one had ever seen their usually calm and collected chief like that before.

"The. _Fire_."

"Tell him, Roger," Jack said in annoyance.

"We have proof she is alive. I heard her screaming. She called out Jacks name."

"But you didn't see her?" Ralph asked testily.

"No, _chief, _the camp was heavily guarded."

"Then how do you know it was Helena?" Ralph pushed a hand though his fair hair, and glared Roger and Jack down as best he could.

"Because no savage I've heard screams like that. And she screamed Jack's name, I don't think anyone over there is called-"

"And why the hell would she scream _his _name?" Ralph spat. Stupid question; everyone knew that Jack and Helena were inseparable.

Jack raised his eyebrows at Ralph, who looked ready to explode.

No one had an answer, so the mountain peak fell silent.

Jack turned over onto his side in his shelter, and remembered how good the pig smelt. How good the pig tasted, half cooked. How most were cheered up by the story of the pig hunt.

He was the hero of the day. Most of the other biguns believed Roger about what he heard, and congratulated Jack for hatching up a plan to rescue Helena.

They thanked him for the meat.

He smirked to himself. _Why am I not chief?_

Though he knew that getting Helena was his first priority. They needed her back.

Jack admitted to himself before he fell asleep that he needed her back. He missed her. Well, they all did. Even the littluns missed seeing her walking around the platform, though Simon was more of a mother figure to them than she ever was.

Only Jack knew she hated little children. Apart from her little sister, of course.

What he missed most was taking her hunting. She didn't take it as seriously as the others, so it was more fun when she was around.

It also seemed to take her mind off her family, mainly her father. She had told Jack the dreams she had, and the more days spent on the Island, the less she thought about it.

The more they focused on killing pigs, the more Jack focused on gaining control of the schoolboys, but he hadn't told Helena that bit yet.

* * *

Ralph sat on a fallen trunk on the platform, the taste of pig lingering on his tongue. He wanted more of the meat. At the time, he was too angry to eat much.

His camp have all gone mad.

No-one, apart from Piggy, seemed angry at Jack's hunters missing fire watch. If they were rescued, Ralph would be able to give a body to her family.

But surely, by the next time a ship passes, her body would no longer be in a state to be given to anybody.

* * *

Donald lay in his prison, keeping his body warm next to the fire.

For most of the afternoon, all he had heard was Helena screaming.

She also screamed a name, but Donald couldn't remember who Jack was.

The littlun curled up in ball peacefully.

* * *

Helena, though the native had left, felt battered. She was still bleeding. Her head still demanded why the body was being put through this torment.

Helena couldn't move without pain shooting up and down her body.

Even she didn't doubt that she probably wouldn't last the night.

* * *

_A/N: Now I thought I'd tell you that this will be my last update for a while, because I have loads of exams coming up in November and probably won't have any inspiration to write. And I have two other fics to update before Half Term is over. __Thanks for reading – let me know what you think!_


	11. Heroics

**Chapter Eleven – Heroics**

* * *

All was still around the Island. The natives slept in their huts, Donald was curled up by the fire, the schoolboys on the other side of the Island stirred every now and then, finding the Island lulled them back to sleep.

Helena, however, was shaking in fear. _I don't want to die. I'm too scared to die._

She didn't close her eyes. In fear of not opening them again.

Helena hummed the words, her grey eyes welling up with not tears of sadness, but tears of the pain. Her heart felt heavy in her chest, and even breathing was such an effort.

She forced her eyelids open – they threatened to block out all life forever. Eventually that night, Helena couldn't take it anymore. She hummed a song. _Just beam me up. I've had it all forever. I've had enough..._

In her unconscious state, Helena felt the shackles being removed from her wrists and ankles. She moaned as she was pulled by the feet down off the table, landing with a _thud! _on the floor.

_"No, no, no..."_

Muttering randomly, Helena was turned over so she was lying with her stomach downwards. Feeling the same rough hands grab her ankles, Helena let herself be dragged out of the cave. It was like when they first took her. Were they taking her back? If it was a savage dragging her, that is.

Helena peeled her eyes open ever so slightly. Judging by no light around the schoolgirl, she guessed it was still the middle of the night. Lifting her head up ever so slightly, she found that trees were a blur as she and the unknown dragging her from behind moved past them.

Shadows surrounded her line of vision.

Suddenly, the perpetrator stopped. Helena breathed on the mucky ground, unable to lift her head anymore.

A gust of wind swept through the forest.

Someone screamed.

Helena tried to lift herself off of the ground, but found she couldn't.

"What's happening?" she asked frantically, but it was too quiet for anyone to hear.

Helena heard the patter of feet, running away from her. She listened as the footsteps got quieter and quieter.

She was on her own, out in the middle of the forest. Of course, she knew the forest like the back of her own hand. Both Jack and she did. In the dark, everything was the same. The same trees, the same monsters, the same flowers and bushes.

A sheet swept over Helena's body. It was her turn to scream.

She had just one more chance to lift her swollen head. Before she passed out of consciousness, Helena looked into the fearful eyes of the flying creature.

* * *

Two nights, one whole day.

For Ralph, it had gone unbearably slow. The second morning, Ralph sat on a trunk at the platform, watching the sky set alight by the sun.

A big huddle had formed down on the beach. The biguns and the hunters were arguing. Loudly.

"A beast! What a load of _crap_."

"It's true! It made a funny noise, and looked up at us! It saw us-"

"-almost snatched us! We ran away just in time-"

"-look at our scratches! We're all bloody from fighting the branches in the forest!"

"There is no such thing!"

"_What _is going on?" Ralph shouted, moving into the middle of the circle. "Samneric? Why aren't you on fire watch?"

"Ralph, we saw the beast! Honestly, we did-"

"It sat up, watched us. Stopped the fire-"

"Chased us Ralph! Almost got me!"

The others erupted again.

"All right! Quiet!"

Ralph revelled in the silence and pushed his fair hair back. Exhaling, he spoke again.

"The beast is _not _real. Of course it isn't! How could it? We would have seen it by now!"

"It could be with _them_."

"No, it isn't! Jack, Simon or I would have seen it on the first day!"

"That littlun, the one that disappeared, said he saw a beast!"

"What he saw were vines. Yes, vines in the dark," Piggy shouted.

Jack, who had been unusually quiet, had had enough. "Shut up, Fatty."

The others laughed nervously.

"Now. This'll be a _real _hunt. We'll hunt the beast! We'll go to the mountaintop!"

The biguns, excited by being able to finally join the hunters, raced off to find suitable branches that could be used for spears.

A buzz of chatter rose. Ralph looked at Jack with an amused expression.

"Boys armed with _sticks_?" Ralph repeated. Jack got angry.

"Coward, Ralph? Fine, stay here. Look after _Piggy _and the littluns."

"Have you forgotten about Helena then, Jack?" Ralph spat back testily. "Not _training _today, then?"

Ralph immediately regretted what he said. He could see he had hit a nerve.

The chief had never seen Jack look so angry. Though, his electric blue eyes only showed Ralph sadness. Raising his spear, Jack brought it down with an almighty crack in the air, knocking Ralph to the ground.

"You'll get what's coming to you, Jack Merridew!" Piggy screamed, helping a bemused Ralph to his feet.

Jack turned to the biguns and his fellow hunters. "TO THE MOUNTAIN!" he yelled, running into the forest, his new and loyal followers obeying.

* * *

"I'm losing them, Piggy," Ralph whispered, rubbing his sore head. It had been a few hours since the others had been to check the mountain.

Piggy, cradling the conch, sighed. "It's all Jack Merridew's fault."

"There is no beast..." Ralph and Piggy jumped at the sound of a soft voice behind them.

"Simon? Where have _you _been?"

Simon looked at the horizon, speaking to no one in particular. "My meadow...there is no beast. It's only us, you know. Only us..."

"You're batty, Simon. Helena was right about you."

Ralph, unable to get over the events of the past few days, watched as the littluns waded dangerously out to sea.

Only when Simon snapped out of his trance-like state did he rescue them from the waves.

* * *

The hunters screamed. They ran back down the mountain, down the path towards the natives camp. Down the _wrong_ path.

"Samneric, you were right," Jack smirked at the fearful faces before him. As mutters broke out, Roger stood by his closest ally.

"Roger...I think it's time we form our own camp. If I can get all of this lot on our side, Ralph will have nothing. Only Fatty and Batty."

Roger sniggered.

"We can train even more. As much as we'd like. The freedom, Roger. Think! And Helena will _love _the idea."

Roger nodded in agreement. "Tonight?"

Jack nodded. "Tonight sounds good. We'll move tonight." The head hunter turned to the others. "Hunters!"

Jack beamed in pride as all of the biguns addressed him, not just the choir-turned-hunters.

"Let's go back, and warn _Chief _of the beast."

Jack had only sauntered a few metres around a corner when he stopped dead in his tracks.

The red head only believed his eyes when he heard other gasps and mutters behind him.

Helena was lying face down, her legs and arms sprawled out.

"Is she dead?" someone whispered.

Jack hoped not. Walking unsteadily forwards, he leant down, and brushed down her grimy brunette hair away from her face.

Jack looked away. No one could bear to look at her.

She was just about recognisable. Cuts and bruises covered her face, and a scar snaked down the side of her right eye. Her arms were caked in bits of mud, blood, sweat, as were her legs.

He placed a hand on her back. He could feel her bones, a sign of how skinny she had become. But, she was breathing. Just. She was alive.

He breathed a sigh of relief. He was right. She had been alive all this time, and Jack knew it. Jack turned her over carefully, but her limps just slumped as he lay her on her back. He almost fell back in shock.

Blood soaked the remains of her shirt and school skirt, and open cuts and bruises coated her skin. Jack remained silent. Scooping Helena in his arms, as if he was cradling a baby, he carried her back to the platform. The hunters followed, unsure of what to do or say.

* * *

Ralph, Piggy and Simon looked on in shock as Jack Merridew carried Helena across to them.

"What did I tell you, Ralph?" Jack whispered, not looking away from Helena's face. "I told you she was alive."

"She can't be..." Ralph shook his head. Piggy reached a hand towards Helena's body, to check that Jack was telling the truth and she was, in fact, breathing.

"Don't you touch her!" Jack snapped, turning and storming off towards his shelter.

"Jack! Wait! I want to talk to her!" Ralph yelled in despair.

"I doubt she would want to talk to _you_, Ralph," Jack jeered back.

"Jack! The meeting!" Roger shouted, gathering the biguns with the conch.

"You start it!" Jack yelled back, entering his shelter.

Carefully, he lay Helena down and sat by her. Luckily, he didn't need to do much to bring her round – she groaned, wearily lifted a hand to her head and shifted in the leaves.

"Helena?" Jack whispered. She dropped her hand from her head and opened her eyes, looking into Jack's.

"J-Jack?" she asked, unsure if she was really seeing him.

He breathed out in relief and smiled.

"Where I am?" she whispered.

"You're back, Helena. I found you, you're safe."

She shook her head and closed her eyes. "I want to die," she whispered.

"No, _no_, you don't."

"If you went through what I have just endured, you would too. I am in so much pain, Jack. _Help _me."

A few tears rolled down her cheeks, knocking away some dirt but making her scratches sting. Jack leaned down, lifted her into his arms and cradled her gently.

"You're safe here, with me. I promise."

"Were you coming to rescue me? I prayed you would," Helena whispered into his chest.

"Yes, yes I was. Of course I was! Though Ralph refused to."

"He..._he_...really?"

Jack nodded as Helena looked up to his face. She jumped at the sudden shouting coming from outside and gripped Jack's arms.

"It's just the assembly. It's not a savage or anything."

"Why are they talking about a beast?" Helena asked, not even feeling Jack caressing her arms, when she usually would shiver at his touch.

"We saw it. On top of the mountain."

"That's just what we need," Helena sighed, wincing at the soreness of her head.

"Ralph's not good enough anymore!" Roger shouted from the platform.

"No, he's not," Helena scowled. Jack smirked.

"Helena, I have got something to tell you..."

She nodded.

"Roger and I are moving camps-"

"_What? _Why?"

"Ralph just isn't fit to be a chief. If you come with me, I can guarantee that you'll be safe. The natives won't find you up at Castle Rock."

Helena stayed silent.

"Will you come with me? Please?"

"Okay."

"JACK FOR CHIEF!" a hunter shouted. Cheers followed this.

"I'll come back and get you in a bit," Jack said, setting Helena down. "I have to go out to the assembly."

"No, please, don't leave me again."

Jack flinched at the words. "I won't be long, I promise, Helena."

Not receiving an answer, Jack quickly joined the assembly, in such happy spirits. The girl he really likes was alive, hated Ralph and was moving camps with him.

Helena didn't hear much of the assembly, but Jack's voice dominated most others. She occasionally heard, "beast!", "savages", "Helena", "torture", "moving", "unfit".

Jack grinned at the hunters who were moving with him away from Ralph's lot. Most of the biguns decided to stay with what they knew best, the civilisation Ralph had created, but not the former choir. Nethertheless, Jack knew the biguns would join behind Ralph's back.

"Hey, Chief?" Roger called.

Jack smiled at the title. "Yes, Roger?"

"Are we still training to attack the savages?"

"Did you see what they did to her?" Jack spat angrily.

Roger nodded.

"Well then. Yes, we are still going to attack."

* * *

_A/N: What did you think? And I would be so grateful if you guys would check out the poll on my profile – I don't need the feedback right now, but it will be relevant later on in the story. I'd love to know what people think. Thanks!_


	12. Taking Up Arms

**Chapter Twelve – Taking Up Arms**

* * *

Jack, carrying Helena across the platform once more, made his descent to his new camp, under his leadership. Roger was carrying a spear by his side, with fresh war paint on his face and body.

"NO, JACK! YOU CAN'T GO!" Ralph yelled from the other side of the platform, staring with wide eyes at the two hunters. The other hunters passed Ralph in amusement, bashing their spears in excitement at their new freedom.

Jack turned around, a grin plastered on his face. Roger did too, leaning on his spear. The hunters gathered behind them, whispering and entrancing the other biguns to join them.

"What was that, Ralph?" Jack teased, "I couldn't quite hear you."

Roger snickered and Helena smiled serenely, her eyes still closed. She used up most of her energy when in the shelter with her eyes open.

Ralph stormed over, chucking the conch to Piggy, receiving a gasp from some biguns at his carelessness.

"You can't go!" he said in exasperation, reaching the hunters, "We have to stick to together, Jack! We have to keep the fire going! You said-"

"I said that when _you _were Chief over me and my hunters. No longer, though! Keep it going _yourself _if you're such a great Chief."

The hunters laughed and wooped behind them, but then hissing and baring their spears towards Ralph's camp. The littluns hid behind Simon and Piggy, scared of the savages before them.

Ralph looked sadly at Helena in Jack's arms. She was leaning her face on his bare torso.

"Don't take Helena," he said angrily, "she's been through _enough_."

Jack laughed. "Oh, Ralph, she _doesn't _want to stay. Not after what you did."

Ralph took a step forward, but Jack took a step back. "Helena?" Ralph said quietly. "Did Jack force you to go with him?"

"No I did not!" Jack snapped angrily, as Roger held out his spear silently to Ralph's throat.

"I wasn't talking to _you_," Ralph snapped back. "Well, Helena?"

For the first time during this argument, Helena opened her eyes. She could just make out the blurry outline of Ralph, cocking his head to the side.

"No, he did not!" Helena said, as angrily as she could muster up.

"Oh. Right," Ralph said quietly, and watched as the hunters ran into the jungle, away from order. Into chaos. They were followed by Roger and Jack, who continued to carry Helena.

"Where to, Chief?" shouted Maurice, play fighting with another hunter.

"To Castle Rock! Where we will denominate it as our fortress!" Cheers from his hunters suggested they liked this idea.

"Chief? Are we still going to train at Castle Rock?"

Jack nodded. "Of course we are, Robert! They're too dangerous to live. When they're gone, that is when this Island will truly be ours."

The hunters hailed Jack and continued to celebrate noisily as they made their way to Castle Rock.

* * *

Helena woke up in a dark cave, which she knew was on Castle Rock. Though she had never been here properly before, she remembered Jack saying they were coming to Castle Rock. Helena's ears were hit with the screaming and yelling of the hunters and the crackling of a fire. A bright glow of orange crept around the corner of the cave entrance, and the shadows it made on the ground told Helena that the hunters were dancing around it.

Helena sighed, sat up, and leant against the stone wall. The pains she had were slowly getting better, but she was still injured and bleeding a little bit in a few places. She placed her finger on the scar that slashed menacingly down by her right eye, and traced it down.

A dark figure appeared in front of her, grinning at the sight before him.

"You're awake!" said Jack, propping himself down next to her. "I've been checking on you for ages, but you've just been sleeping."

"It sounds like you're having fun out there," Helena smiled, pointing towards the orange glow, "I'm surprised I did sleep through it."

Jack chuckled. "We're celebrating. The boys went hunting, while I stayed to keep an eye on you. I keep thinking you're going to...anyway, I've got some pig for you. You haven't had meat yet!" He looked at her skinny frame in concern.

Helena's smile widened. "Thanks, Jack."

"I haven't seen you smile like that in ages," he said, sliding his hand over hers, and squeezing it gently.

Helena squeezed it back. "So, how did you get fire?"

"We took some from the top of the mountain," Jack said. "Ralph is so predictable."

Helena nodded. "What are you all training for?"

'I haven't told you! Well, we're training to fight. I'm teaching them. _Ralph_ was against the idea," Jack spat his name out menacingly, "and we're going to rid the Island of the natives. We're going to fight them and kill them for what they did to you."

Helena gasped. "Are you _batty? _You're going to fight trained-from-five-years-old _savages? _Oh, please don't! You're going to get hurt, or _killed_."

Jack squeezed her hand again. "Helena, please relax. It's too dangerous for them to live. It's already decided."

"Oh..._bloody hell._"

"And you're not coming. You stay up here where it's safe."

"I am! I need to rescue Donald! I promised him that nothing else would happen to him, Jack."

Jack, however, looked puzzled. "Who the hell is Donald?"

"What do you mean, _'who the hell is Donald' – _Oh! He was the little boy we _thought _died in that fire ages ago. But he's alive, in _their _camp!"

"Well, okay, you can come, but as soon as you get him, you _leave_, okay?"

"Okay, okay," Helena sighed, knowing that that was the best she could get out of the whole thing. "So, when is it going to happen?"

"As soon as we can, really. _Maybe_ in a few days time. Hang on, I thought you didn't like littluns?"

"I don't. My God, it's gonna be good to get away from all of them. But he knows how I feel, what I've been through. I wouldn't wish what I had just endured on anybody."

Jack nodded. "Is he all right?"

"Just about. Probably wondering where I am. I took the sacrifice. I put myself forward to be killed on that stone table."

"So the...that drumming was all for you?" Jack asked, his voice cracking at the end.

Helena nodded. "But I got taken away by some other savage who actually saved my life. Though he _did_ end up torturing me."

As the memories of it all flashed back to her, she began to feel cold, and preceded to tremble. Jack put his arms around her, to comfort her, to tell her that that was not going to happen again.

"Come on," said Helena, shakily standing on her own two feet for the first time in a while, "let's join this party. It sounds _wild._"

Jack quickly got up to her aid when her thin legs began to shake. Putting his arm around her waist, he led her outside. Helena giggled at the sight.

The hunters seemed _drunk _on the dances they were doing around the warm fire. They were chanting, singing, yelling, probably keeping the neighbours up.

Roger handed her a piece of succulent pig, half cooked, but Helena didn't care.

"Thank you Roger," she said merrily, as he gave her a hug to welcome her back.

"Nice to have you back with us. Maybe when you're better, you can come hunting with us again. You were fun to work with."

His dark eyes twinkled at her, and she grinned. "Of course I will."

"She definitely will," Jack said, leading her to a rock to sit as she devoured her meat, not caring about her table manners.

The rock was higher than any of the others, and Jack sat on it next to Helena. He proudly overlooked his dominion.

Helena felt Jack's warm breath on her ear. "This is all ours," he indicated to Castle Rock and the hunters, who were still basking in the bright mood around the camp, "our tribe."

Helena's lips tugged into a happy and glowing smile while she finished off her chunk of pig. It wouldn't have usually been much but, to Helena, that meal was a lot.

Four weeks passed since Helena had been found. Just over three months on the Island. Helena had healed up, but not yet completely. How her body had survived such torment was a surprise to everybody, but only Jack was more relieved than anyone else. If anything, what she had been through made them even more closer than before. Helena often sent a hunter to see if Donald was still alive during those weeks.

That morning, exactly four weeks since Helena was found, Jack made a speech to everyone at Castle Rock. To Jack's absolute delight, every single bigun had left Ralph for him over the course of the weeks. Except for Simon and Piggy and Samneric, and all of the littluns.

The new biguns had been painted with the clay as their initiation, and had been hunting and training, instead of repairing shelters, collecting water in coconut shells and collecting food. No, this was much better.

"Listen!" Jack commanded, as Castle Rock fell silent. "Today is the day!"

They all cheered back to him. Jack held his hand up for silence. "Everyone, grab your spears. Sharpen them up. Get into attack mode!"

Helena looked on as they all sharpened their thick branches, or spears as they call them, hissed and gritted their teeth at one another, as Jack hyped them all up, by shouting at them every now and then.

In army lines, they all faced the exit of Castle Rock, ready. If any were nervous, no one showed it.

Jack and Helena stood at the front of the hunters. "Remember what I told you. You get Donald, and then you leave, okay?"

"Yes, I _know_," Helena said distantly, biting her bottom lip.

"Don't be worried," Jack said sensing her distressed mood, "everything will go to plan."

_You can't train people to become fighters in just a few weeks, _Helena thought, feeling sick at the stomach at the thought of Jack getting hurt, or killed.

"This is ridiculous," Helena said to the Chief, "we can't do this."

Jack ignored the comment, and stood up straight. "Hunters! Forward, to the enemy camp!"

And off they marched.

* * *

_A/N: So, my exams are over! Thank God. So, this is a very quick update from the last one. I __Hope you enjoyed the chapter – oh, and don't forget about the poll on my profile, it's currently a tie!_


	13. Bloodshed

**Chapter Thirteen – Bloodshed**

* * *

Jack, Helena and the hunters strode through the forest proudly, chanting, "Kill the natives! Cut their throats! Spill their blood!" Though Helena was worried for Jack, and the rest of them, she couldn't deny she was a _little_ excited.

Jack commanded for them to stop, and the boys halted and the chanting ended immediately.

"Roger, climb up that tree and have a look at the camp."

Roger obeyed, and slid up with ease. Everyone watched intently and silently. He stretched across a thick branch, and jumped back down to Jack's side. Whispering to each other, Roger then returned to his place in the lines.

The hunters crept to the edge of the natives camp, and the boys who had not seen it before gasped in shock. Jack had never told them what the camp was like. It was a scary place, and the atmosphere was grim and the stench of death hung in the air. Always, Helena had come to notice.

There were only about 30 or 40 of them, but this didn't make the hunters any confident. An elderly crone, the same one Helena, Jack, Ralph and Simon saw, yelled out to the tribe's chief, and the tribesmen strutted the place fearfully. They looked on in disgust at the various pieces of jewellery that was actually _thrust _into their _skin._

"NOW!" Jack yelled, and, still in shock, the hunters sprinted into the camp. Madness ensured, as every single human yelled, screeched, hissed and threw weapons.

Helena ran through this flurry towards the shelter that she was in with Donald.

A savage barred her way, holding up a spear, ready to strike. Glaring her down with his wicked eyes, Helena grimaced and waited for _it_.

_It _didn't come. She looked up to see Jack and Roger tackle it from behind.

Not taking any more chances, Helena threw open the door. Donald was in the corner of the shelter, curled up in a ball, shaking violently.

"Donald!" Helena yelled over the war noises outside, running over to him. He barely had the energy to open his eyes, but Helena looked at him in despair. He looked ill. His body was pale yet flushed and he kept muttering to himself.

Cradling him in her arms, Helena struggled to hold him. He was heavy for her small body to carry. But she _had _to get him out of here. Tightening her grip around him, Helena hurried out of the shelter. Fighting the bodies that were falling around her, and the spears that were being thrown all around her too, she pushed herself forward and tried to ignore the sobs, anger, pain and yells from the fight.

_The soldier ran out into No Man's Land, trying to miss the flying bullets, bombs and barbed wire. Bodies that fell in front of him barred his path and a Jerry shot him dead when he looked away from a split second. He was looking at the pole on which his dead son was tied up against._

Helena gasped at the second premonition that barred her own way out, and felt herself feeling relief when she noticed she was running past lush green colours, which seemed undisturbed from the battle and the bloodshed.

The schoolgirl decided to take Donald to Ralph's camp, her old home. Reaching the platform, Helena stopped at the edge abruptly. The shelters still stood, the palm terrace still towered over the platform, and the conch still sat on the head fallen trunk of the meeting place.

Ralph whipped around, his thoughts on what those God-awful noises were disturbed and saw that Helena, and the littlun who died in the fire, standing on the edge of the platform, breathing heavily and seemingly struggling with the weight of the boy.

"Helena?" Ralph asked uncertainly.

She nodded, and carefully came down to Ralph and Piggy. They stared wide-eyed at the littlun in her arms.

"I thought he was dead," Ralph said quietly, as Helena lay him down in the shade, near where his fellow littluns were playing.

"Well, you thought wrong then, didn't you?" Helena said in a annoyed tone, sitting by him on the beach. "The savages had him all along."

"I'm sorry," Ralph said, quietly still, "for everything. I messed up as Chief."

"You got that right," Helena looked over at Donald, "but will you keep an eye on Donald for me please?"

Ralph nodded. "Helena? Are Jack and...his lot fighting the natives?"

Helena nodded.

"They'll never win," Ralph said in exasperation.

"How do you know? Had a peek into the future or something?"

Ralph sighed at her sarcasm. Helena had always been like Jack, hating the littluns, enjoying hunting and so on. That was how she is. But never usually towards Ralph.

"It reminded me of war, though," Helena whispered to Ralph, "reminded me of my own father fighting. And dying. And my brother, too."

She began to choke up, and Ralph put an arm around her to comfort her, something which Helena shrugged off. She _should _be telling Jack this, not Ralph.

Ralph waited for the short lived tears to dry on her cheeks. Deciding not to press the subject, in fear of getting her angry again, Ralph spoke of something that is bothering him.

"Simon has cracked," Ralph said, receiving a snicker from Helena.

"He cracked at birth, Ralph. What's new?"

"He's gone to look for the beast."

Helena shrugged. "He was always batty. He'll be all right."

"But he's one of my only allies. Apart from Piggy and Samneric. He has stayed by my side, Helena."

_Touching, _she thought sarcastically, but decided against hurting Ralph's feelings. Rolling her eyes, she stood up.

"I'm going back to the fighting, Ralph," she said firmly, looking out towards the noises.

"You can't!" Ralph shrieked, jumping up. "You'll get hurt! Or killed!"

"Jack could be dead," she said distantly, not tearing her eyes away from the forest. Ralph wasn't sure whether she was saying that to him or herself.

"It'll be Jack's own fault if he dies. Or if anyone dies-"

"How dare you talk about him like that! He's a good leader. He never forced anyone to join his little 'army', they all seem to enjoy not doing the chores that _you _made them do!"

Ralph looks at her sadly. "I tried my best-"

"I'll be back for Donald," Helena cut in. Ralph turned away as Helena ran back into the forest. Piggy shook his head at her.

"We are better off without all of them, Ralph."

"I want her back, though," Ralph admitted quietly.

* * *

Helena sprinted back through the jungle, now free of Donald's weight. She pushed herself on as the noises of the fighting got louder and louder. Helena stopped at the edge of the camp in shock at the sight before her.

Dead women and children littered the floor, strewn about randomly. There were more women, children and the weaker men dead than the strong adults. Blood trickled down in the grooves on the ground, their shelters had been brought to the ground and their livelihood had been destroyed. Helena then realised what Jack and Roger were whispering about this morning.

Their tactics were to go to the weaker ones first, and the women and children. Helena felt a _little_ remorse as the savages were no longer savage. When a brute of a man saw his family being attacked, a look of terror flickered on his previously always-angry face. Rushing to their aid, he was a much more easier target for the boy hunters.

To her surprise, Helena could not see any bodies of any white boys. While scanning the camp, she saw Jack, who was fighting with his spear against a native of his own age. An adult, probably the boy's father, who had rippling muscles on his torso, silently crept up behind Jack and swung his spear high behind his head with both hands.

Helena felt this unknown emotion push her forward, as she yelled out in fear. She ran; she sprinted towards Jack. Approaching his side, she pushed his body sideways, so they fell in a heap on the floor, panting heavily.

The spear, just missing Helena's body, swung down and pierced the other boy. His father screamed in agony, watching as his son's body crumpled to the floor.

"I thought I'd told you to leave after you got that littlun!" Jack yelled over the uproar of the camp.

"Did you _really _think I'd miss seeing all of this? Besides, I just _saved _your life!"

"I would have moved!" Jack exclaimed, jumping up from off the floor, helping Helena up too.

Helena scoffed, rolled her eyes and brushed herself down.

"Thank you," Jack whispered, and before Helena had a chance to look up, she was sent flying to the ground, which a punch in the stomach.

Jack yelled out in anger, and was thrashing with his spear, cutting the native, who had just lost his son because of Helena, many times. The savage was blinded with tears to see what he was doing.

He managed to knock Jack's spear out of his hands.

Helena stepped in, doing her bit for her tribe, while Jack retrieved a spear. Grabbing a spear from the floor, she copied what Jack and the hunters had been practising all week. Managing to hold him off, Jack crept up behind like a predator and pierced his prey's flesh.

As the father, like his son before him, crumpled to the floor over his son's body, Helena looked up at Jack in satisfaction.

"And you _didn't _need me?"

It was Jack's turn to scoff.

"This is why women should be on the Front Line. Teamwork, Jack. Boys just want all the glory for themselves."

Her Chief walked around the two bodies and stood by Helena, grinning.

"Why are you grinning like that?"

"You're right. Teamwork did help me. You did good."

Helena involuntary grinned back, and they embraced each other with a hug of relief.

A loud, louder than any other, screech echoed through the camp, causing the yells of madness and the sobs of despair to eventually die down. Roger stood over the Chief, his spear held high in satisfaction, blood falling off of the end.

One by one, the natives dropped their spears, held loved ones close, and raised their arms in surrender. Helena cheered with every one of the hunters.

The natives collected their belongings and dead bodies of their loved ones and gradually began to disappear in the forest. All the while, the hunters cheered and hollered, booed and hissed as the natives passed by them in shame.

When all of the savages had gone, Jack strode silently over to the dead Chief's body, striding through the dancing hunters. Helena followed him, laughing and talking with those she past. Jack lifted the Chief's crown, which consisted of feathers, sticks that been shaped and some bright coloured stones.

He brought it down onto his own head, resulting in the hunters chanting Jack's name. Standing a on a high rock that jutted out of the ground, Jack oversaw his tribe in satisfaction and happiness. _Ralph would have never got us this far._

Helena joined Jack on top of the rock. He slid an arm around her waist.

"We did it," he whispered, as she grinned at the hunters before them, play fighting with each other, acting out their fights.

Their cheers only got louder when Jack pressed his lips against Helena's.

* * *

It was dark now. The hunters were dancing around a roaring fire, in the middle of the savages old home. Drunk again on the glittering mood in the air, many began to fight again. Jack and Helena tackled Roger from behind, and many others pretended to stab their friends.

"LOOK! IT'S THE BEAST!"

"THE BEAST! IT HAS COME BECAUSE IT'S ANGRY!" Jack yelled, "KILL IT!"

The hunters surged forward in a mass of confusion towards the tumbling figure, who was emerging out of the jumble of rocks and trees that led towards the mountain peak.

Only did the hunters pull out their spears in horror when they realised they were penetrating white flesh.

* * *

_A/N: So, another quick update! And this is because I have two school trips coming up. See you all when I get back!__AND a big thank you to my amazing reviewers. __I love you all!_


	14. Grief

**Chapter Fourteen - Grief**

* * *

_I'm a murderer. I ended a life. A human life. Woops._

Helena lay in the cave she shared with Jack. Replaying the scene, Helena remembered it all. The chanting, the screams and the yells when they were all dancing around the roaring fire. She remembered tackling Roger with Jack...

Helena opened her eyes as sunlight began to fill the cave. She smiled to herself; Jack _kissed _her last night. She remembered how it felt. Jack gently took her face into his hands while the hunters celebrated the downfall of the natives before them. He pressed his lips against hers softly, and Helena certainly didn't care, or even notice, that they both had cracked and dry lips, and smelt of sweat and blood.

After a few seconds of their own comfortable rhythm, Helena's hands resting on his bare waist, he took her hand and led her to his hunters, so he could join the celebration dance and the play fighting...

_And we killed someone together. I can't deny that it felt, well, almost good._

The sound of hunters' voices outside of the cave seemed to awaken Jack. He turned to Helena, who was chewing her lip nervously. She was nervous about _not_ feeling at all guilty about the death.

"I know what you're thinking about," he whispered, so Helena turned her head to look at him.

"How do you feel about it all?" she whispered back, as Jack twirled a finger around a lock of her brunette hair.

"_Please _don't run away when I say this," he insisted, "but I, erm, _liked _it. It felt like the right thing."

Helena sighed in relief. "Oh thank God. I feel the same, actually."

Jack smiled. "I'm glad you do. It's not as if we killed anyone decent, anyway," Helena nodded in agreement, and even giggled slightly, "But, I think the beast was _very _angry at us for killing the natives. It came down, disguised."

"So, what are we going to do about it?" Helena asked, imagining the unknown beast coming to attack them at night.

"Today, when we go hunting, we'll leave an offering. A pigs head."

Helena shook her head. "Seriously, we are going to be in so much trouble when we go back home. We killed-"

"No, Helena, we won't be getting rescued," Jack interjected firmly. "We will be here forever. You and me, we'll be leaders over the hunters forever. We'll be forever young."

She grinned at the thought. That didn't sound too bad. Actually, being a leader, with Jack, sounded great.

Jack watched as her face light up, and actually realised that he kissed her last night. As it hit him, Jack let it sink in that they were, well, together. Were they? If you kiss someone, does that _tell _them you want to be with them? Jack had never really been in this situation before.

Helena stood up, as Jack showed signs he was in deep thought.

"Jack, you coming?"

He nodded. Standing, he slipped an arm around Helena's waist, and kissed her on the cheek, to see her reaction. Helena didn't seem surprised by it, well she did the same to him, so Jack concluded that they _were_ together. Or whatever people call it.

After a breakfast of fruits and nuts, the hunters got themselves ready for the daily hunt. The atmosphere around Castle Rock was still a victorious one – they felt like kings, having taken the Island for themselves.

"Helena, you feel up for hunting?" Jack asked, smothering the clay war paint on his face.

"No," she lied, "but I will tomorrow."

She seemed distant. "Oh. Okay. See you when-"

He didn't get a chance to finish. She had got up and briskly walked away, down Castle Rock.

He stared after her with concerned eyes. The voice of Roger and the other hunters distracted him, as he joined the hunters in their lines.

* * *

Helena trekked through the forest, towards the natives old place. She was happy.

She was a murderer. But Jack felt the same about it. And as Jack had said, it wasn't really anyone that they needed, anyway. He was _batty. _And everyone knew it. That was probably why the beast chose him.

And Helena was with him now. Jack. _Nothing _could have made her more happier. He wasn't afraid of anything. He was _hers_...just as she was _his_. And Helena _knew _he would do anything for her. So, even better. It helped that he was confident and a _great _leader. Helena felt very well protected.

Passing the spot where the losers of the battle were making a new home out of barely nothing, Helena smirked in satisfaction. The hunters had taken handy tools and things away from them.

She arrived at the camp. The stench of the fallen still hung in the air around Helena. But she didn't care. Sauntering over to the remains of last night's roaring fire, she finally saw him in the sunlight.

Simon. His black hair covered his face and his body was caked in dry blood, and a few flies hovered over his face. It was definitely him, no beast was around now his body was useless. She leaned down to him.

"Sorry Simon," she said in an uninterested voice. "If you hadn't have gone looking for the beast, then this wouldn't have happened. There is no one to blame but yourself."

She patted his hand, and stood up again.

"Rest in peace," Helena said in half-amusement, and she left him to rot.

* * *

Ralph sat on a log at the meeting area on the platform, Piggy by his side. Samneric were watching the fire, some of which gets stolen every day by Jack or a hunter. The fire was no longer on the mountain, the beast made sure of that, but further down the beach, on a little slope.

"I wonder how yesterday went," Ralph said aimlessly to Piggy, "Helena said she would come back. To see Donald, I mean. But she hasn't. I'm really worried."

"It was all going ter go wrong anyway, Ralph," Piggy sighed, "forget about her. She was nothing bu' trouble, especially with Merridew."

Ralph buried his head in his hands. "But we're friends, Piggy! At least, I think we are. I hope we are."

"You don't need her!" Piggy exclaimed. "You've got me, Samneric, Simon..." He trailed off.

"I wonder where Simon got to," Ralph thought aloud.

"An' Helena doesn't treat you right, does she?" Piggy continued, "she likes you the one minute an' then she remembers something about you or Jack comes into it an' she hates you again."

"She's going to be devastated," Ralph whispered, ignoring Piggy's true words, "when she finds out about Donald."

"Hey, Ralph, Piggy."

Helena made her way across to them. Ralph breathed a sigh of relief – she survived that war that was going on between Jack and the natives.

Piggy refused to acknowledge her presence while Ralph smiled weakly. "Hey, Helena. I'm glad you're all right. What happened then, yesterday?"

"We won," she said impatiently, "drove the natives into the forest. Where's Donald? I am here to see_ him_."

"Listen, Helena, about Donald-" He stopped when he saw how desperate she was getting to see him. Best let her find out on her own. "He's in that shelter," he continued quickly, pointing to it.

Helena advanced towards it, but stopped and turned back to Ralph and Piggy.

"Simon – he's dead. I'm so sorry. The beast got in him."

She left them wide-eyed and stunned to go into Donald's shelter.

It was Helena's turn to experience grief and loss when she stared at his lifeless body. Gently pressing a hand on his torso, she felt no heartbeat. He still looked ill, even in death.

Helena, feeling the unknown emotion rise in her stomach again, burst into uncontrollable tears over his body. Wrapping her arms under him and pressing him closer to her, she rocked him back and forth.

Ralph watched with sadness as Helena emerged from his shelter with Donald in her arms, her eyes blinded with uncontrollable tears. She stormed past them both.

"Wait, Helena! You have to tell us about Simon! Please!"

"I don't have to do anything," she sobbed, "go away, Ralph. You failed me, _again_. I'll make sure you _pay _for this."

Ralph's stomach dropped unpleasantly as she disappeared behind the palm trees. Piggy placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's go an' find Simon," he whispered to Ralph.

* * *

Helena sat atop the rock that she and Jack use to oversee their kingdom. She still held Donald's body. She still cried. For the first time in her life, she experienced _proper_ grief.

She heard the hunters return from the hunt. They sounded triumphant.

"Helena!" Jack shouted from the other side of Castle Rock. "We got one hell of a pig! We left the pig's head for the beast! You should have seen the blood-"

As he advanced closer to her, he realised she was shaking uncontrollably over a body. A littluns body.

Next, for Helena, was all a blur. Donald was taken off of her, by whom and where he was taken to she had no idea. Jack was hugging her, and that's all she concentrated on.

"D-Donald!" she shrieked into Jack's shoulder. "He-he's d-dead!"

Jack hugged her tighter.

"And it's all Ralph's fault! He promised me he would take care of him! I HATE him!"

Jack couldn't help but smirk at the last comment. But he was distracted when Helena yanked Jack closer to her.

"You have to make him pay," Helena whispered to Jack, pulling out of his hug.

"I think that can be arranged," came the dark voice of Roger, leaning on a tree behind them.


	15. Harmless Games

**Chapter Fifteen – Harmless Games**

* * *

"Ralph! I found Simon!"

But Ralph wasn't listening. He looked around the camp he had once feared.

He wrinkled his nose at the distasteful smell in the air; blood, sweat and smoke. Dry blood lined the old wooden tables, lined the graves and lined the trees. The whole camp had been ransacked, while anything that was rendered useful had obviously been taken by the victors.

A girl couldn't of participated in this, Ralph thought, it wasn't right. She should be with the littluns, looking after them and being motherly. Like all girls are meant to do. Right?

"Helena helped in this," Ralph called over to Piggy. "That's not like her. She _wouldn't _usually..."

Ralph trailed off, pondering over his own words. Was this really what Helena is like? Dark, evil? Just like Jack, Roger? Ralph sighed. He was too good for her. Not bad enough for her. Unlike Jack Merridew.

"What did you expect, Ralph?" Piggy said in a frustrated tone. "She's wicked. I always knew she was. She hates me. I don't know why. Just because I'm fat an' I wear specs an' because we're _sensible_."

Ralph had, by now, joined Piggy by, what seemed, charred remains of a fire and Simon's body. Simon was just about recognisable, his black hair still seemingly alive. More blood twirled around his wounds, and his body twisted in all the wrong ways.

Ralph felt a tear slide down his flushed cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Simon. We'll never forget you."

Piggy nodded in agreement. "Well? What should we do with him?"

"We'll give him a proper send off, Piggy. It's what he deserves."

And so, standing by an open grave in the stained camp, Ralph and Piggy said a few words.

* * *

Late afternoon, a quiet Helena traipsed through the forest with Roger and Maurice, her two closest friends in the camp, on orders from Jack to get fire.

Roger and Maurice, who were slightly ahead of Helena, were talking quietly, "So, what can we do to cheer her up?" Roger asked, his cheeks tingeing slightly pink at the question.

At no surprise to Roger, Maurice grinned. "We'll just play a little game with whoever's on fire watch."

Roger was impressed. He turned around to a sniffling Helena. "Hey, Helena."

She walked in line with them. "We're going to play a nice game with the boys on fire watch. Are you up for it?"

"Thanks Rog, but I'll just watch," she said, smiling for the first time since they had come back from the hunt. Roger remembers how she just broke down in front of Jack, how they sat and she cried for ages. How one of the hunters threw Donald in the ocean. The funny thing was, Jack didn't even mind. He wasn't frustrated, impatient, annoyed at the crying girl. And Roger knew Jack well.

Will he even want Helena, if they ever get rescued? He's got everything he's ever wanted – Head Boy, Chapter Chorister and the respect from anyone who knows him, including his proud father. He didn't need a girl. He never even _wanted _one. _I'll always be there for her if that does happen, _Roger thought, quite happily.

"Well, hello, Samneric," Maurice said dramatically, towering over the twins by standing on top of the little slope. "We're here for some fire."

Roger and Helena flunked him from behind, their war paint and rags all the more savage and terrifying to the clean and innocent twins, who nodded in unison.

But Maurice didn't grab a thick branch, with fire burning at the end. He eyed the twins over. Roger spoke huskily.

"We would like to play a game," Roger smiled, jumping down off the slope so he was at the twins level. Maurice joined him, landing neatly beside Roger.

"Drop on your knees," Roger commanded, while Helena sat down on the slope, leaning against a tree, basking in the shade.

Samneric looked terrified. And confused. "What? Please-"

"-Don't!" Maurice stepped forward, closer to them, spear clutched tightly in his right hand.

Helena rolled her eyes. Why don't they just do as they're told? She never heard Donald complain _once_.

"Drop down onto your knees," Roger calmly commanded once again.

The twins did so without a seconds thought. "Good. Now run on all fours."

Samneric moved nervously.

"Go on, RUN!"

And so they did. Like pigs, the ran away from the fire.

Roger and Maurice chucked stones and pebbles after them, laughing hysterically all the while. Helena joined in the laughter as the twins _tried_ to run up the beach, wobbling and turning this way and that, and one of them being hit square on his ass.

The three savages howled with laughter. Then the stone throwing stopped. Roger nodded to Maurice, and they sprinted after Samneric. They waved their spears madly, chanting _Kill the twins! Cut their throats! Spill their blood!_

Samneric felt physically sick. They were the pigs. They were being hunted. The strong hunting the weak.

Helena jumped up, and ran down to watch the scuffle, grinning at the entertainment, Donald being pushed from her mind. Roger and Maurice mockingly attacked with their spears, as Samneric came crashing down from their crawling position, and the twins tried to fight back by throwing sand and little pebbles.

The two hunters jumped up in satisfaction as the exhausted twins lay on the sand.

Running back to Helena, they all laughed at the sight while bashing their spears against the other's. As their laughter subsided, Maurice stole some of their fire. In happy spirits, they ran back to their home with the feeling of invincibility.

Jack watched as Helena, Roger and Maurice emerged from the forest, talking excitedly, seemingly acting out some sort of hunt. Maurice carried some fire.

The sun slowly starting to set, Jack greeted the three as they climbed up to the top of Castle Rock. Sensing Helena's obvious good mood, Jack dare not bring up that littlun.

"Oh Jack you should have been there!" Helena said, out of breath, as Roger and Maurice acted out the game again. The hunters roared with laughter as Jack stood by Helena's side, pulling her closer to him.

The sun disappeared. Around a blazing fire, the hunters were full on pig. On one side, Jack and Helena lay on their backs, so they were gazing up to the black sky, talking quietly.

"You know what Roger suggested earlier? About Ralph?"

Helena nodded.

"Well, I'm going to announce it in a minute. I've got a plan."

"Okay. So you'll promise it'll go ahead?"

"Of course it will! He needs to be taken care of. We all hate him," Jack watched as Helena smiled at the sky. "I'll tell everyone it's because the beast is in Ralph now. Of course, I know the beast is resting at the mountain top at the moment, we did leave it the head of our kill, after all."

* * *

Roger wondered whether or not Jack was going to tell the tribe of what's going to happen the next day. Everyone needs to know, so the hunters can prepare.

However, Jack seemed distracted. Roger thought this odd – he knew Jack well, and he has never been this interested in a girl before. Well, he hasn't. Roger watched as Helena rolled onto her stomach, and kiss Jack affectionately.

Roger looked away.

* * *

"Shut up! I've got something to say!"

Everyone silenced and glanced up at Jack, who was on his feet.

"You all remember how the beast got inside of Simon?"

The hunters buzzed, and quietened back down again. "Well, it's in Ralph."

"Let's hunt Ralph!" the hunters screamed, and Jack waved for silence.

"That's what we're going to do," Jack continued, "and it'll happen tomorrow night."

The hunters cheered, and, copying Roger and Maurice's game, pretended their friends were pigs, and practised their hunting on them.

Jack looked down in satisfaction at Helena, who had propped herself up by her elbows, grinned evilly at the camp. She had something else in mind, Jack knew.

* * *

_A/N: So, that was a quicker update that I had expected. I thought I would be major busy, but I've finished my coursework, done my Christmas shopping and school has given us a very easy couple of weeks. Let me know what you think!_


	16. Animal You Have Become

**Chapter Sixteen – Animal You Have Become**

* * *

A content Jack lay in his cave, Helena by his side.

What was she up too? He remembered her grin from a few hours ago; he liked it. She has something planned, something for Ralph. And Jack was going to find out what it was.

He gently nudged her.

"Helena?" he whispered. "What are you up too?"

She opened her eyes, and smiled again. "I have something in mind for Ralph."

Jack smirked. "Oh? And what would that be?"

Helena leaned up to Jack's ear, and whispered.

Jack grinned evilly with her.

* * *

"Chief!" Roger's voice was carried over to Jack and Helena, who were emerging from their cave after a particularly long lie-in.

Jack, who sported messier hair and pink cheeks, nodded to Roger to speak.

"There's no fire!"

Jack stormed over to Roger, Helena following closely. "What do you mean, _there's no fire_?"

"Nobody is on fire watch over at the old place," Roger explained, his dark eyes showing slight terror for not being able to bring back fire for Jack.

"Well," Jack smirked, feeling slightly happy at this, "it looks like we'll have to _take _it from them."

Roger frowned. "How?"

Helena stood by Jack, and Roger noticed she was red faced too, though he had no idea why, and her hair had been tied up with a vine. "I know how. We're going to steal Piggy's specs. Right, Jack?"

The chief looked at her in satisfaction. "Precisely."

* * *

Ralph lay down in the burning sand, as it shaped around his body, welcoming the oppressive heat. Maybe it would be better to die than to stay here forever. Especially now Helena was no longer Helena anymore. But as Piggy kept saying, this is who she is. At her worst.

To think that the girl Ralph _still _cares about hates him. For all Ralph knows, she would want him dead. And with her tribe, that could _easily _be arranged.

Ralph did not want to stay here forever. All of those _what if's _floating around in his brain is making him forget about why he has to stay chief over the good; Piggy, Samneric and the littluns. He has to do it for Simon.

Samneric being too afraid to do fire watch is all the more why Ralph thinks that they'll never get rescued. No fire, no smoke. A ship wouldn't come this way for any random reason.

_Curse Roger and Maurice for playing games with Samneric! They've never done anything to them – they should be going for me. It's my fault that they're this way._

And, of course, Helena was partially involved. She laughed, found it entertaining, encouraged them to do it. This is something that really makes Ralph feel sick.

Suddenly, bouts of yelling and ululating echoed through the forest. Ralph and his camp are used to this; it must be the hunter's daily hunt.

Ralph stood warily and faced the forest when the echoes got louder. The chanting, the yelling, the banging of spears were definitely getting closer.

Piggy and Samneric moved behind Ralph in fear, while the littluns ran into a shelter.

The next bit, for Ralph, all went a bit too fast. A flurry of painted children broke through the palm trees on the palm terrace and sprinted toward them aggressively.

All Ralph could do was put his hands up by his face in defence, but found he was thrown out the way. A scuffle proceeded behind him; Ralph heard the twins try to fight back while Piggy was whimpering and thrashing out with his arms.

Eventually, the painted boys screamed in victory and had, once again, broke through the palm trees and out of sight.

As their noise began to dim down as they ran further into the forest, Ralph quickly went to Piggy and Samneric.

"Piggy? Samneric? Are you all right?"

"We got ourselves into a bit of a fight! We-"

"-came out all right, though."

"Piggy?" asked Ralph certainly, watching Piggy quiver on the floor, holding his face.

"They took my specs," he whispered, "help me, Ralph. I can't see."

* * *

The hunters took it in turns trying the specs on while a bright fire crackled in front of them. Some more hunters were cooking pig meat for their late breakfast. Helena laughed as they 'played' Piggy, tearing at her meat.

Roger, who was on guard duty, squinted as he saw a few figures emerge from the undergrowth. Who could they be?

However, he grinned as he saw who they were. Climbing up to the top of Castle Rock were Ralph, Piggy, Samneric and the littluns – the biguns carrying spears, Ralph guiding Piggy whilst carrying the conch.

Roger whistled. "Halt! Who goes there?"

Ralph was not in the mood for this. "Don't be so silly! You know who we are! Where's Jack?"

Jack, who had heard the whistle from Roger, was already there, flunked by all of his tribe.

"Well, Ralph! Long time no see! How are things?" he said humorously, making the hunters cackle at Ralph.

"Shut up Jack! Shut up all of you! I've got the conch!"

The hunters continued to sneer, boo and hiss.

"The conch doesn't count on my end of the Island!" Jack yelled, no longer in a good mood.

"The conch counts everywhere!" Ralph spat back, "and another thing! You're a thief! You took Piggy's specs! You've _got _to give them back!"

Jack stormed down to Ralph's level. "Got to? WHO SAYS?"

"I do!" Ralph yelled back, holding his spear menacingly, "you bloody liar! You bloody thief, Jack Merridew!"

"Say that again!" Jack roared.

"Thief! Liar!" Ralph retaliated. He looked up at Helena, who was standing by Roger. She used her to get Jack angry. "Do you even _like _Helena? Do you _realise _what you're doing to her? She's a bloody savage because of _you_! I bet she only likes you because of your goddamn authority over everyone!"

Jack, swelling up in anger, launched himself at Ralph. As they fought, their spears waving in the air and their free fist aiming for the other's body, the hunters cheered Jack on.

No one noticed when Ralph dropped the conch. It fell; it smashed. Not even Ralph himself noticed.

"STOP!" screamed Piggy, who was clutching onto a rock for dear life. "Listen to me! Please!"

The hunters laughed, and then silenced, interested in what Piggy had to say. To them up high, he looked like a bag of fat.

"Do you _want _to stay here forever?"

Jack let Ralph go, remembering the plan to hunt him later. He turned around to the hunters, who replied 'yes' to Piggy's question. Jack joined Helena and Roger up top.

"Which is better?" he shouted over the din, "to be sensible and civil like Ralph and I? Or to be like a pack of painted-"

Piggy never got to finish his sentence. Jack, Helena and Roger all had their hands on a giant boulder. Heaving with all their might, the boulder smashed Piggy's head. Not even time for Piggy to feel again, his body fell over the cliff and into the sea, the water turning red with blood.

The hunters smirked. The trio who had killed him giggled, though Jack could not forget what Ralph dared to say to him. Ralph stared at the water, stunned, a loose tear falling down his cheek.

"Helena, Rog, take Samneric, tie them up," Jack said directly to them. He then shouted, "Hunters! Take the littleuns, tie them up! Now!"

"Go, Ralph, quick!" one of the twins urged Ralph.

'They'll kill you!' the other one concluded. Ralph, now suddenly without a tribe, fled down Castle Rock and into the forest.

The hunters took the littleuns into the middle of their camp, tying them all to each other tightly. The littluns cried and yelled endlessly.

Roger and Helena brought up Samneric, who were also tied up. Helena moaned as the littluns voices hit her ears. "That is going to get so annoying."

Roger nodded in agreement. "Maybe we should get rid of them now and have done with it."

Jack, who was still in a furious mood, stormed over to Samneric, prodding them with the sharpest spear he could find.

"How dare you!" he yelled as Helena and Roger dropped them to the floor. "What do you think of coming here, to my tribe, with spears with the intention of _not _joining? Hmm?"

The twins said nothing, simply wept a little.

"Roger, continue with this, please," Jack commanded. "Until they decide to join my tribe, you may stop. Helena, come with me."

Helena hurried after him. His breathing was out of sync. They stopped when they were out of sight of everyone else.

Jack grabbed Helena's face with his rough hands and bashed their lips together. Unlike their usual passion, it was more Jack venting his anger out. Helena stayed stiff in her position until he had cooled down.

He released her and sighed, dropping his hands from her face.

"I'm sorry. Ralph will die," he said with determination, "tomorrow. He cannot say things like that, _to me_, and expect to get away with it."

"I know, I know, he was out of order," Helena said quickly, rubbing her hands down his arms as his breath began to match again.

"And I _do _like you. I like you _a lot_. What he said was not true!"

As his blue eyes looked ready to burst from their sockets again, Helena threw her arms around Jack.

"I know," she repeated. "And don't believe we he says, either, about me not liking you."

Jack nodded, and, to Helena's surprise, apologized.

"Chief!" Roger sauntered towards them both. Helena let go of Jack, but he grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

"They will join now," he smiled wickedly. "After some persuasion, of course."

Jack smiled. "They will go on guard duty tonight. And we'll hunt Ralph tomorrow, instead."

Roger's smile fell. "What? Why?"

Helena smiled. "I know why. Because Ralph will come back to see what we're up to. He'll tell them where he is going to be hiding."

Jack looked at her in satisfaction. "Precisely."

* * *

It was the day that they were going to get rid of Ralph. Jack's last enemy; he can _finally _feel like the Island would be his. And it was going to be easy.

Jack and Helena were right; Ralph had visited Samneric during the night. And he told them where he was going to hide after Jack told the twins they were going to hunt Ralph down.

The hunters made themselves up with fresh war paint and made newly sharpened spears. The electric atmosphere around camp bounced off each of the hunters, who all knew that this was an extra special hunt.

They were ready. Jack and Helena leading, they marched down Castle Rock, leaving Samneric and the littluns tied up by the undergrowth.

* * *

Ralph felt a hole in his stomach. It was a feeling of hunger. But also a feeling he was going to die. Though the sun was only beginning to rise, rise to Ralph's doom, the schoolboy stiffened at any noise or movement that surrounded him. The danger would cease to be every time. It was such torment for the teenager, and he could not bear the panic inside of him.

Even his sweat, which had settled in his sitting position, was trembling on his body. As a bug seemed intent on scaring him further, Ralph flicked it away in frustration.

A crack of a branch, broken by obviously feet, was Ralph's only warning.

The hunters stalked and circled the thicket Ralph was encased in.

"Got Piggy's specs?" Jack whispered to Roger. "Good. We'll smoke him out."

Ralph wrinkled his nose at the smell. His nostrils burning, he swallowed his cough back down. He widened his eyes as he heard voices circling him. So, he was the pig. The ironic thing was that _they _had become the animals.

The sun shining down on him, the trees, the flowers seemed friendly rather than menacing. Ralph's heart began to race at the thought of death. He crawled back as a flame sprouted from the ground and roared.

He could hear the hunter's jeers, and it became maddening. Wicked, painted eyes scanned the thicket from the other side, looking through a few broken branches. As Ralph's eyes met his, the hunter's face creased, suggesting he had broken into a smile.

Ralph jumped up, sweat sliding off his body. Whipping himself around, Ralph broke out of the thicket and ran. God, he ran.

"After him!" Jack yelled, and the hunters began their chase of their prey.

The flames followed them angrily, catching on to any dead branch or tree, roaring to Ralph. Telling him of the situation he was in.

"Separate!" Jack yelled to his tribe. "Until Ralph ends up by the Native's new camp!"

Helena smiled as she ran, remembering her plan.

All of the schoolchildren were unaware of the carnage behind them. The flames licked at the undergrowth and everything in its path, destroying their paradise.

And it was getting closer to them.

Breaking off from one another, the hunters tried different trails, so Ralph would have no choice but to end up by _the_ hill. Down that hill, the natives were making a home for themselves.

Ralph skidded and came to an abrupt halt, and it sent stones sliding down the hill and into their camp. Ralph's relief at not falling down the hill turned to confusion as the hunters noises stopped in sync. Their last note rose up and dropped as the sound of flames took over the Island.

Helena stepped out of the trees. Only Helena – no hunters were with her.

Ralph sighed in relief, "Helena."

She said nothing. Her face was emotionless. Any excitement she had previously shown had been wiped off.

"Have you come to help me?"

Helena stepped closer to him.

"Helena?"

She stepped closer to him.

"Please, Helena! Don't let them kill me! I haven't done anything wrong!"

She stepped closer to him.

"We were friends, Helena! I even _liked _you a little bit. Does that not mean anything?"

Helena was now face to face with her former chief.

Raising her arms, she pushed Ralph down the hill. He rolled into the natives new home.

The painted black people screamed at the arrival of a white boy.

Remembering what the white boys had done to them, they made sure this one never saw the light of another day.

* * *

_A/N: Well, the next chapter will be the last! And it's all planned out, so it will be out before Christmas Day. __Reviewers and readers, thank you!_


	17. Resolution

**Chapter Seventeen – Resolution**

* * *

Helena's dark emerald eyes glared at the scene before her. Ralph's lifeless body, having been penetrated with anything the natives could find, twitched slightly until the nerves and impulses settled for the last time.

As the blood and sweat cascaded off of him, Helena moved her eyes away. There used to be days when she could call him good looking, but this was taken away, especially when the flies crawled around his body greedily.

The natives left him to rot, moving away as if nothing had happened.

The sound of thunder swiftly moved through the forest in anger. Helena's face flickered emotion.

She ran away from the hill's edge and back into the undergrowth. The canopy above her rattled, and the ground roared.

Her fellow hunters were waiting for her, in a big huddle, surrounding the natives new place.

"Is it done?" asked Jack.

Helena nodded, and smiled serenely. "No blood on our hands."

"That was a good plan," said Roger, "I'm impressed."

Helena smirked. The hunters cheered.

"This Island," Jack shouted, "is officially OURS!"

Their laughter was short-lived. The thunder of the great fire was coming for them, and the smell of smoke burned their throats and blinded the hunters.

"We have to get out of here," Jack whispered to Helena.

"What the hell happened?" she asked, as the hunters began to run away. Roger grabbed onto Jack, trying to pull him away, and out of the smoke.

"The fire...it got out of control," Jack bit his lip.

"How the hell are we going to live?" Helena shrieked, following Jack and Roger, coughing insanely.

Behind them, the natives screamed.

All around them, pigs screamed.

In front of them, the hunters screamed in fear.

Helena couldn't take this. The smell, no sight, the screaming.

They continued to follow various trails out of the jungle. The hunters had been separated; all with one goal: get to the beach.

Helena, Jack and Roger ran past Simon's place. Though Helena did not know it was his meadow, she never would have guessed it was. Not so far from the mountain, the once innocent meadow was stained with blood, and the stench scared away the dancing butterflies and the scented candle buds smelt of pig. The pig's head that once stood on a stick sharpened on both ends had been knocked down, and the head and its flies guard the entrance.

Not so long after they had ran past it, a flame ran through the meadow. Paradise was officially lost. It was no tropical forest now.

* * *

Samneric and the littluns were trapped. Still tied up down in the undergrowth, they felt suffocated by the ever coming smoke. And they listened to the growing rumble and felt the heat get hotter and hotter.

* * *

"I'm stuck!"

Jack and Helena skidded to a halt, and turned to see the owner of the voice. Roger was tangled in some dangling vines. Something just did not want them to escape from this hell.

Rushing to help their friend, not much could be done. Struggling to untangle the vines, which seem to ravel themselves around Roger as if they were alive, Jack yelled in frustration.

"Roger, _how _did you manage-"

A tree fell down with an almighty BANG, making the three of them jump. Jack could feel the flames heat already.

"Helena, go. I'll sort this out."

"What?"

"Go. I'll meet you on the beach. We'll be fine. Go on!"

He pushed her back gently. With one last look back at a trapped Roger and a struggling Jack, Helena continued down the trail.

Helena tried to catch up with the others, but she had no idea whether they had made it to the beach or if they were stuck somewhere. But, Jack said he'd meet her on the beach, and that is what she has to do. Get to the beach.

As everything fell around her, Helena jumped over various logs and trunks, twisting down different lanes, ducking from falling bits of forest, waving her arms around so she could see through the smoke.

Breaking free from the palm terrace, Helena flung herself down onto the beach, welcoming the soft sand to break her fall. Standing up quickly, she stopped dead in shock.

The hunters were scattered on the beach, staring at a ship. No, staring at the officer that was exiting the ship.

In clean clothes, he examined the alien children, covered in paint, holding dangerous sticks.

Helena moved forward, standing by her fellow hunters nervously. No one knew what to say without Jack. They all gathered around by Helena, who whispered, "No one say anything. No one has died, it was just us on the Island. Got it?"

They all braced themselves for being told what to do once again, back to civilisation. After having so much freedom, they didn't want to leave.

Helena turned around, and faced the burning forest. Worried, there were no signs of them.

There was no sign of Samneric or the littluns. _Woops. They're all tied up, _Helena thought. She didn't care about them.

There was no sign of Jack, Roger.

_Where are you?_

Helena, panicking, decided to ask the officer for help, maybe he could go and get them.

But, as she turned around again, she saw the officer assembling the boys, ready to be taken away.

* * *

_A/N: Well, that was the end. I seriously cannot believe it's over. I hope you all don't hate me too much._

_Thank you's:_

_To everyone who has ever reviewed. I love getting reviews, and reading feedback and advice._

_A big thank you to:_  
_gaarsaku4ever: for reviewing a lot, and for being really positive about my story._  
_SideshowJazz1: for reviewing lots too! And telling me that my story was unique, which was exactly what I set out to do._  
_LiveLoveWrite-93: for reviewing every chapter since you discovered my story, and for giving me amazing feedback! Thank you so much. EVERYONE – check out her story._  
_Persephone's Melody: for reviewing every chapter since you discovered my story. You give me the most amazing reviews, you just GET my story and everything I write about, and your feedback means a lot to me. Thank you!:D EVERYONE – check out her story._  
_And..._  
_TuesdayNovember: Well. What can I say? Thank you so much for being there for me right from the beginning, and supporting me and my writing, and giving me advice when I asked for it. And for reviewing every chapter since the beginning, and keeping me going when no one else reviewed some early chapters. Thank you so, so so much. __P.S – Update Godstone! ;)_

_More thank you's: __To the people who have put me or my story on their favourites list or their alert list._

_And finally...Have an amazing Christmas._

* * *

_We're on the run,_

_And Im about to lose it._

_She's like a gun,_

_And she ain't afraid to use it._

_We'll catch our very last train,_

_Light our very last flames,_

_And we'll knock it all back and forget our names,_

_'Cos it's our last night,_

_And it's one last fight._

_We're the last ones,_

_The last ones standing._

_-Lyrics by Example._


	18. Author's Note: The Sequel

**Author's Note: After the Story.**

_Hey Guys,_

_So I know I previously posted an A/N, replaced by this one, but I'm just letting you know what's actually going to happen now._

_So I've got a plan for the sequel; I will upload the first chapter during the Summer Holidays. I would like to thank you all for the positive feedback for the story and its sequel._

_Okay, so the sequel will finally let you know who actually survived. I'm sorry for leaving you all hanging at the end! Also included is life back home, how the survivors cope with a "normal" life and the presence of grown-ups again. For romance fans, that will be included for Helena, and the ever-growing threat of World War Two, now it's out of the Phoney War, will also play a major part in the sequel, and how it affects the survivor's lives. And finally, later on in the story, a court case will appear. Why, you'll have to wait and see._

_Oh, and I'm also thinking of Helena researching the tribes people they found on the Island, I think that'd be cool. And don't worry – her horrible and violent personality is here to stay! She always had it, if you noticed the subtle hints at the beginning of my story, but the Island bought it out badly._

_Now, I'm actually not sure if the story should mainly take place in Texas, as that was where the plane was headed before it crashed, if you remember. They are still, obviously, trying to escape WW2. But I'm thinking that, especially as German's shot their plane down, they'll stay in England, or move to the countryside. If you have any thoughts/ideas/suggestions or whatever, please let me know. Or any other ideas, for that matter._

_So I think that's everything. Again, thank you for your tremendous support – I wouldn't be here without my readers. Don't hesitate to leave a review or message me with your thoughts._

_Thanks! –Lauren._


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